


Beauty And The Barnes

by The_Sad_Hatter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Beware, Blowjobs, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky is a beast, Dubious Consent, Everyone Needs A Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, He's mean, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Peter Parker is Chip, Rough Sex, Sam is Cogsworth, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn Romance, Steve is the Lumiere type character, This fic is Nastyyyy, Tony is Mrs Potts, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bucky is an asshole, immediate smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-02-10 10:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18658600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter
Summary: A Modern Re-Telling Of Beauty And The BeastWhen your father falls deathly ill you fall into a lifestyle you could have never predicted for yourself. Selling your body as a high-class escort isn’t ideal but it’s the only way to find the money you need to help your father, until your first client offers you another way.Bucky’s mean, coarse and gets a kick out of watching you squirm but he is willing to help your father. All you have to do is sign yourself over to The Winter Soldier, body and soul.Trapped in The Avengers compound, serving as a PA to a man who's an absolute beast you find yourself wondering if there's such a thing as a happy ending?**On Hiatus**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I've marked this with rape/non con to be on the safe side but it's more that it has slight dub con elements in it. 
> 
> This is far darker and kinkier than any of my other works so don't read if that's not your sorta thing please.

Being a prostitute was absolutely not your idea of career goals. You weren’t a judgemental person, you had nothing against sex workers you just didn’t think you’d ever be one. You didn’t have the confidence to fuck a stranger, or so you thought. But here you were, knocking on a strangers door and getting ready to do whatever his heart desired.

 

He swung open the door and waved you in, almost disinterestedly. You stumbled inside, nearly losing your balance in shock. Your first ever client, the one you’d been told was ‘James’ was one of the most recognisable men on the planet. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. The Winter Soldier.

 

The Winter Soldier was about to pay you to fuck him.

 

He glanced over at you and held out a manila envelope.

 

“Go ahead and count it, meet me in the bedroom. Bathrooms that way if you need to prepare.” He instructed and you nodded and wordlessly took the envelope from him.

 

He stalked away, completely unbothered by your presence. You hurried towards the bathroom that he’d pointed to and tried to calm your erratic heartbeat. So your client was an Avenger? So what. It didn’t change anything, you were here to do a job and you were going to do it. You didn’t have a choice.

 

It was a tale as old as time. Girl does things she never thought she’d do because she needs the money. Rather, your father needed the money. He was sick, had been for a while now. It was a rare form of lung cancer and without continuous (expensive) treatments, he would deteriorate quickly. You’d tried so hard to find the money, dropping out of college and taking every odd job, every temp position you could find but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. Seeing how desperate you were, one of the other girls at the temp agency had put you in touch with a woman who went by Mrs Pamela.

 

Mrs Pamela had taken one look at you and hired you straight away.

 

“You got an innocence about you that’ll get a lot of rocks off, princess.” She’s laughed.

 

She’d spent a whole day instructing you on the do’s and don’ts of whoring as she’d called it before she’d dressed you up prettily, patted you on the ass and sent you here. To an average apartment building in Brooklyn.

 

Speaking of the Do’s and Don’ts’s…. You quickly counted the cash before you sent her a text telling her you needed to borrow a curling iron, the code for everything was ok. You straightened your shoulders, took a deep breath and walked quickly and calmly as you could into the bedroom.

 

Bucky hadn’t wasted any time because he was sliding his boxers off as you walked in.

 

“Take your dress off.” He said without looking at you and you snapped your mouth closed (the man was fucking beautiful, metal arm and scarring included).

 

You shrugged the dress off as he lay casually on the bed and held a condom wrapper up for you to see before tossing it onto the sheets next to him.

 

“Get me hard and put the condom on, then ride me. I don’t really care if you cum or not so don’t bother faking it.” He told you, settling back on the pillows and looking at you expectantly.

 

So he wasn’t really interested in being with a woman, prostitutes were just an expensive way of quickly getting off for him apparently. You nodded meekly and crawled onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. You took a measured breath and tried to dissociate yourself from what you were about to do. He watched you with an air of curiosity, verging on boredom as you steeled yourself.

 

Using your hand would be preferable, but sucking him off would be faster. Logic prevailed and you cautiously leaned forward and kissed the base of his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft and sucking the head into your mouth. He cocked his head as you sucked him off, slowing down as he quickly hardened and became too big for you to take all at once. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft and pumped, letting your hand cover what your mouth could not until he was fully erect and you released him with a wet pop.

 

“You’re not like the others.” He stated, trying to puzzle you out.

 

You panicked. Had you done something wrong? Had you displeased him?

 

“I’m new.” You tried to explain.

 

“That explains it. Don’t worry, you’ll have the innocence fucked out of you in no time.”

 

You swallowed thickly and tried to hide your emotions as his statement but he saw them anyway.

 

“So you’re really new. You’ve never fucked anyone for money before have you?”

 

You shook your head and he smirked, looking interested for the first time. You ignored him as best as you were able and picked up the condom wrapper.

 

“No, not yet. Take your bra off, play with your tits for me.” He instructed.

 

You shot him a puzzled look but did as he said, unhooking your bra and shrugging it from your shoulders. You cupped your breasts in your hands and squeezed them, rolling the nipples between your fingers and pinching them.

 

“You’re innocent, naïve. Almost pure. I like that.” He said with a smirk.

 

“I’m a hooker, I can’t be that pure.” You argued.

 

“You’re fucking terrible at it.” He told you and you blushed in shame.

 

“A good hooker wouldn’t have stopped playing with her tits just because I spoke to her.” He said, grinning wickedly at you and sitting up so he was only a few inches away from you.

 

You realized he was right, you’d immediately gotten distracted when he spoke to you and unconsciously stopped your actions. He tutted mockingly at you and pushed your hands out of the way so he could take over. He brushed his thumbs over your nipples gently and they immediately hardened under his touch, making him chuckle.

 

“Well aren’t you responsive?” He teased.

 

You didn’t have an answer for that so you nodded unsurely at him.

 

“Why are you doing this? You need the money?” He asked you.

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Tell me.” He ordered and even though you weren’t supposed to tell him anything personal about yourself you found the words spilling out of you.

 

“My fathers sick, he needs treatment and I can’t afford it.” You told him.

 

“Hmm. Stand up and bend over, pull your panties down. Slowly.”

 

You climbed over his leg and stood on the floor with your back to him and did what was asked of you.

 

“You have a nice ass and a pretty pussy. How much are the treatments?”

 

“Why does it matter?” You asked him.

 

He landed a hard slap to your ass.

 

“Don’t talk back to me.” He reprimanded.

 

“Sorry.” You quickly apologised as you turned around.

 

“You’re beautiful, you have a good body. A sweet but not dull and lifeless personality…” He said, sizing you up and pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him.

 

He rubbed his cock along your slit and you bit your lip, trying not to enjoy it. You felt like you were forgetting something…

 

“Condom!” You gasped.

 

“You don’t need it.” He said pushing the head of his cock into you.

 

“No, no don’t. We need the condom!” You insisted but he ignored you and your struggling.

 

It was almost embarrassing how easily he over powered you, pulling your hips down and forcing his cock inside you. You yelped at the burn and tried to pull away.

 

“Shut up. Nobody walks through this door without being subjected to a thorough background check in case they’re Hydra. So I know you’re clean and I know you’re on birth control now stop whining and let me enjoy this.” He snapped.

 

“But..” You whimpered.

 

“Let me cum inside you and I’ll pay you double.” He said and you paused.

 

He completely ignored you and your internal arguments with yourself as he gripped your hips and pulled you up and down part the way of his length. It hurt, a lot but it felt really good as well and you tried to fight that feeling.

 

“Ok. You can cum inside me.” You agreed breathlessly.

 

“I was going to anyway doll.” He said flatly, letting go of your hips and leaning back on his elbows.

 

You were smart enough to get the gist of what he wanted and continued to slide up and down on his cock, your cunt growing used to his size and the pain dissipating. His eyes were transfixed on the way your breasts bounced with every thrust and he groaned.

 

“Faster.” He instructed and you obliged.

 

No matter how good it felt, you refused to give into it, you didn’t want to enjoy this. It was a job, nothing more. Still, your wetness gave you away and soon you were making obscene squelching sounds every time you sank down on his throbbing cock, never going more than halfway down his shaft.

 

“For fuck sake, I’ve given you time to adjust, I’ve been nice now take it all.” He ordered you impatiently.

 

“You’re really big, I don’t know if I can OWW!” You screeched as he gave up waiting for you and grabbed your hips, slamming you down all the way and holding you in place while tears pricked at your eyes.

 

“Fuck! Fuck you!” You hissed, pain shutting off your common sense.

 

“I already am you fucking idiot.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

 

He was so big that he wasn’t just stretching your walls further than they could take but he’d reached the end of you, the head of his cock had bumped your cervix. You weren’t actively trying to get away, your body was struggling of it’s own accord. The more you fought and wriggled the more amused he looked.

 

“I’m going to let you go now, and your going to ride my cock properly ok?” He said and you clenched your jaw and nodded.

 

He loosened his grip on your hips but kept a hold of them, probably incase you didn’t do as you were told. You screwed your eyes shut and used your thigh muscles to slide up his cock before you slammed back down on it, taking him all the way inside your aching cunt.

 

“Oh, that’s a good girl.” He moaned, sitting back and watching appreciatively as his cock disappeared inside you over and over again.

 

“Keep doing that… That’s my girl.” He praised and you felt him throb inside you as he neared his climax.

 

His abdomen clenched and a guttural groan fell from his mouth as he flipped the two of you over so he was on top and pounded mercilessly into you. Ignoring your screams of pleasure/pain he shot his load inside you, lasting far longer than you thought was possible. As soon as he was done he pulled out and shoved you away. You were mildly insulted until he positioned you in a way that he had an excellent view of your exposed pussy, swollen and raw from the abusive pounding he’d inflicted upon it and dripping with his semen.

 

“I’m glad you didn’t cum babydoll, cause I get to do this…” He said, gathering up his cum with two metal fingers and using it as lubrication to rub a frenzied, inhuman pace against your clit.

 

It was more powerful than any vibrator you’d used so it really wasn’t your fault that you came in less than a minute, moaning loudly with your back arching off the bed while he watched the way your pulsating pussy pushed his cum out.

 

“It’s been over 70 years since I’ve came inside a dame. Forgot how beautiful it was.” He told you as you came down from the unexpected, unwelcome orgasm.

 

You were dazed and shocked at what had happened. It was one line you had promised yourself you wouldn’t cross and he had forced it out of you before you even had a chance to realise what was happening. He stood up and looked down at you uncaringly.

 

“Lick them clean.” He instructed, holding his cum drenched fingers out to you.

 

You couldn’t refuse and you knew it so you sat up and took his metal fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue and licking his salty cum off of them.

 

“That’s a good girl.” He said when you were done and walking away.

 

“Are we done? Shall I leave?” You asked blankly, hoping he said yes but also hoping he gave your legs time to stop shaking.

 

“No. I want to make you an offer.  I need a PA, all the other Avengers have one.” He said and you turned your head to look at him.

 

“What?” You asked incredulously.

 

“Instead of being a whore for anyone who pays, you’ll be my whore. I pay better, trust me.”

 

“I thought you said PA?” You asked with a frown.

 

“You will be my PA. You’ll keep my appointments, bring me coffee, do my laundry and anything else I tell you to do. You’ll get a pretty decent paycheck for it.” He explained.

 

“So you just want me to be an assistant?” You asked, still frowning.

 

“You’ll also be my own private whore. You’ll fuck me whenever I want, you’ll suck my dick whenever I ask. You’ll do whatever I say, no matter how degrading or embarrassing or painful and in return… I’ll make sure your father gets his treatments. From a decent clinic, not some shitty downtown one.” He said.

 

“You said you did a background check on me before I walked in the door… You knew about my dad before I told you, didn’t you?” You asked him and he just smirked in response.

 

“This was some of twisted job interview wasn’t it?” You asked, sighing and hanging your head.

 

You did not want to work for Bucky Barnes, you knew he would destroy you, body and soul. But he’d just offered something you couldn’t refuse and you were betting he fucking knew it.

 

“You have 24 hours to think about it.” He said, throwing your clothes at you.

 

“Why me?” You whispered.

 

“Because I want you, and I take what I want these days, _Belle._ ”

 

“You know that’s not my name, you know everything about me.”

 

“True, but it suits you. I think I’ll keep it. I think I’ll keep you.


	2. Chapter 2

You kicked the front door open with your foot as you juggled the keys and the bags of groceries.

 

“Dad?” You called out, looking around the open for him.

 

“Oh sweetheart, there you are. Could you * **cough** * pass me the * **cough** *…” He said, peering at you from behind a canvas.

 

“The cornflower blue?” You asked, smiling sadly and passing him the paint.

 

He nodded happily, choosing to save his voice.

 

Once upon a time your father had been an incredible painter. He never sought riches or fame, just enough to get by and make sure you had all you needed. Beyond that, he just wanted to bring a little beauty and joy into people’s lives. These days, he painted for himself. He was to weak, too shaky to give his art the same level of detail as before and it had become a private hobby.

 

“Dad, why isn’t the fireplace lit? We have a top floor apartment so you can use the chimney.” You scolded, dropping the groceries onto the countertop and hurrying over to the fireplace.

 

“It dries out the paint.” He wheezed.

 

“It also helps your lungs. Cold air, bad!” You said for the billionth time as you stuffed newspapers under the logs.

 

He devolved into a violent coughing fit behind you and you sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to ease it.

 

“I’ll put the groceries away.” You told him and he waved you off, picking up his paintbrush again.

 

You slowly put all the healthy foods into the fridge, contemplating the life changing decision you’d been given last night, pretending to ponder over it. It was your father’s health, his life you were talking about here though and you knew that ultimately, you were going to sign yourself over to Bucky Barnes. You pulled out your phone and sent a text to Mrs Pamela, telling her it just wasn’t the right lifestyle for you and promptly blocked her number. That was when you noticed the new email notification.

 

 

**From: JBBTWS@Starkmail.com**

**Subject: I think this will satisfy your father’s needs.**

You clicked open the email and nearly dropped the phone in shock at the online brochure it led you to. The out of state clinic was one of the best in the country, specialising in lung disorders. The pictures showed a sleek, clean, _homely_ looking facility that boasted the best doctors. It was the sort of place that you couldn’t even have dreamt of sending your father.

 

“Dad?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I have a Job interview with Stark Industries today, if I get it my medical insurance will cover your treatments. Better, you’ll get really good care.” You said, fudging the truth.

 

“Yes but * **cough** * do you want this job? Will you like working * **cough** * there?” You father asked in concern.

 

“I would love to get this job!” You lied through your teeth.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

You smoothed your hands over the skirt of your dress nervously as you got out of your beat up old rickety pick-up truck and stepped inside the building, slipping the lanyard that had been given to you at the front gate over your neck. There was a reception desk, but it was unmanned and you looked around nervously.

 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You called quietly.

 

“Hello Miss Belle.” A woman’s voice said from nowhere and you yelped and spun round looking for the owner of the mysterious voice.

 

“Hello…. Ghost?” You answered.

 

“My name is Friday; I am an Artificial Intelligence system. Sergeant Barnes is expecting you, if you’ll step into the elevator, I will send you to the correct floor.” Friday said.

 

“Oh, why thank you very much Friday.” You said kindly as an elevator door slid open on the other side of the room and you hurried towards it.

 

As the elevator carried you up, you wondered if it would be rude of you to correct an AI about your name. You decided against it, you didn’t want to offend or embarrass her.

 

“Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you in his suite. Turn left, then right and it’s the second door on the right.” Friday instructed.

 

“Thankyou Friday!” You called, hurrying out of the elevator with your head down, hoping you didn’t run into anybody.

 

You made your way to the correct door and raised your hand to knock but before you did it swung open and Bucky Barnes looked down at you with an unimpressed, almost bored expression.

 

“You made the right choice. Sign these.” He said, tossing a pile of papers at you.

 

“Can I read them?” You asked, catching them awkwardly as you crossed the threshold.

 

“The point of reading a contract is to make sure you’re not signing your soul away. You _are_ signing your soul over to me, and your body with it. Besides, those are just the standard NDA’s and privacy clauses all Stark employee’s sign.” He said, sitting down and watching you.

 

“Right…” you said, looking through your bag for a pen.

 

He held one up in your line of vison and you took it.

 

“Does it use Ink or Blood?” You joked.

 

“Why, do you have a bloodplay kink you want me to indulge?” He asked and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

 

“Nope. My only kink is being completely owned and controlled by handsome 100-year-old assassins?” You offered and there was a flash of _something_ in his eyes.

 

You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes closed so you didn’t have to watch yourself sign your life away. As soon as you were done he snatched the papers away and handed you a single sheet of paper.

 

“Now sign this.” He instructed.

 

“This contract gives you uninhabited access to my body, whenever, wherever and however you chose. In return, you will pay for my father’s admission and stay at The Clinic and all treatments needed. That’s literally all it says.” You spluttered.

 

“That’s all it needs to say.”

 

“I…” You began but he was right. What more was there to be said?

 

“Is it even legally binding?” You asked.

 

“The law is the least of your worries if you break a contract with me. But yes. Friday serves as a witness.” He informed you.

 

“What about if _you_ break the contract?” You asked.

 

“I won’t.” He stated.

 

“But what if…”

 

“I’m not going to.”

 

“But how do I know that?”

 

“I WONT!” He roared; patience spent.

 

You had to believe him. It was your dads’ best chance. So nodded and scribbled your signature onto the paper. For such a monumental moment in your life, it was rather anti-climactic, and you pulled back to regard the paper with a puzzled frown.

 

“What now?” He snapped.

 

“I don’t know… I was expecting it to burst into flames or something.” You admitted.

 

“How… why… never mind.” He sighed, looking at you like you were an idiot and grabbing your elbow and dragging you over to a door on the far side of the room.

 

“This is your room. Mine is that one.” He said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

 

“So, you don’t live in Brooklyn? Wait. MY room?” You yelped.

 

“Yes, your room. I want you fully moved in by tomorrow night at the latest. It’s in the contracts you just signed. The clinic is coming for your father, in about… 25 minutes.” He told you.

 

“What? But… but I didn’t even get to say goodbye! I’ll never make it home on time!”

 

“Not my problem. I promised to get him help, I have. You’re being given a tour of the compound and getting your security clearance by one of the on-site PA’s in a few minutes, so we don’t have a lot of time.” He said callously, pushing you into the living area.

 

“But…” You objected.

 

“Listen, you belong to me now. You agreed to it, so stop fucking being annoying about it and do as I damn well say.”

 

You snapped your mouth closed and tried to brush aside the thought you’d made a terrible mistake and the worry for your father and nodded to him. Your new master.

 

“Turn around.” He instructed.

 

When you did, he quickly unzipped your dress and slipped the straps over your shoulders, pushing the dress to the floor.

 

“We don't have a lot of time, but I don't want you walking around the building meeting all these superheroes without remembering who you belong too.” He told you.

 

He spun you around so you were facing him and sat down in the chair. You stood there unsure exactly of what you're supposed to do until he unzipped himself and pulled his fully hard cock free. You stifled a gasp, somehow in your mind you'd managed to downplay how big it was but seeing again now you remembered how difficult it had been to fit that thing inside of you.

 

“Well don't just stand there Belle, this is your job now.” He reprimanded.

You stepped forward and began to sink to your knees but he tutted at you and you sighed and leant over him instead, wrapping your hand around his cock. You couldn’t fit your fingers all the way around him as you tentatively and experimentally pumped your hand up and down his shaft.

 

“Hmm. Put a little effort into it.” He said coldly.

 

So you did. Your back started to burn from the awkward hunched over position quickly and your arm started to ache from the continues pumping. It was so… mundane. This was the man who ordered prostitutes to get off, not the cruel, sadistic and almost cheekily charming man who’d made you ride him.

 

You strangely missed that man, at least he’d had a shade of life in him. So, you did something potentially stupid and leaned over to lick the bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. He cocked his head curiously at you but didn’t reprimand you, so you slowly closed your lips over the very tip of him and almost teasingly sucked as you pumped your hand along his shaft, twisting your wrist and squeezing him.

 

“There’s my Belle.” He praised.

 

He stood up, forcing you to stand upright as he did, and you continued to jerk him off as he pulled your underwear down over your hips, leaving them about midway down your thigh. He leant forward so the head of his cock was jutting over the edge of your panties and you figured out was he was doing. He was going to make you carry a reminder of who you belonged to with you for the rest of the day and you swallowed thickly.

 

His fingers hooked under your chin and forced you to look up at him. He gazed at your face with a look you couldn’t quite place for a few moments before you felt him twitch in your hand and you glanced down to watch as he spurted roped of white cum into your panties, some of it splashing off of your pussy. He groaned and you pumped him until he was done and he quickly pulled your panties back up, further than they needed to be until it was almost painful.

 

You could feel his sticky, warm seed press against your most intimate parts and you shuddered at the sensation. Especially when it oozed out of your underwear and trickled down your leg. He zipped himself back up and tossed your dress at you and walked towards the door, sighing and stopping without turning when he didn’t hear you move.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

 

“I don’t want to move yet?” You said timidly.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because… It’ll…. You know? It’ll squelch.” You explained.

 

His shoulders shook and for a brief second you thought he might be laughing until he turned around and glared at you.

 

“You’ll suffer a lot worse than wet panties while you’re here. Trust me. Fucking move.” He snarled and you hurriedly pulled your dress back on, twisting around to pull the zipper up.

 

He unceremoniously pushed you out of the door and smacked you ass before the door slammed in your face.

 

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to go!” You shouted.

 

No response.

 

“Bucky?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Friday?” You said hopefully.

 

“Yes Miss Belle, I’m here. If you head back towards the elevator, the common room is opposite, and your escort is waiting there for you.” Friday said helpfully.

 

“Thankyouu.” You whispered, walking awkwardly towards the common room.

 

There was indeed squelching and though you would never, ever admit it out loud, having Bucky’s cum soaking through your underwear and coating your pussy was actually not an entirely unpleasant feeling. You gradually straightened up, getting used to the feeling.

 

You wandered into the common room, looking around for your ‘escort’.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Is that her? Are you the girl?

 

“I think it is. Are you Belle?”

 

You stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. The two men, the two very famous men looked over you curiously, bordering on concern when you didn’t move.

 

You really hoped neither Captain America nor The Falcon was your tour guide because you were not making a good impression.

 

“Yes! I’m Belle.” You said without thinking.

 

It was really starting to look like you were stuck with the name.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not 100% sure about this fic so this is the decider chapter for me. I tried to make Bucky beastly but still Bucky and I wanted Belle to be sweet and innocent but still have a sassy streak. 
> 
> In case you would like to know...   
> Lumiere - Steve  
> Cogsworth - Sam   
> Mrs Potts - Tony   
> Chip - Peter Parker


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m Steve Rogers, ma’am. This is Sam Wilson.” The infamous Captain America said, offering you his hand.

 

You shook it, feeling a sense of calm from his friendly demeanour, opposed to Sam’s Wilsons non too subtle suspicious frowns.  

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, both of you.” You said, shooting Sam what you hoped was an open, friendly smile.

 

Sam looked almost horrified for a second after he’d made his assessment of you and he rounded on Steve with a desperate look.

 

“She’s _nice_.” He hissed.

 

“What he means is, it was nice to meet you Belle. We just wanted to say hello and we’re sure we’ll see you around. Let us know if you need anything!” Steve called as he physically dragged Sam out of the room.

 

“um, ok. Bye?” You said to the now empty room.

 

That was befuddling and disconcerting to say the least and now, you were alone with no idea what to do next.

 

“So you’re the one?” Someone behind you said and you whirled round to see the women huddled in the corner staring at you.

 

“I’m Claudia.”

 

“Paula.”

 

“Laura.”

 

They introduced themselves as if you had a hope in hell of remembering which one was which.

 

“Ok, and you’re… PA’s?” You guessed.

 

“General assistants. We help keep the place running for everyone. You’re the only A with a P.” One of them said.

 

It took you a minute to figure out what she’d said but when you did, your blood boiled over. Bucky had said all the Avengers had their own PA’s… But he’d lied. You were the only one assigned to a specific Avenger. Him, you were assigned to him. What you couldn’t figure out was why, or why he’d lied about it.

 

“Here’s your stuff. StarkPad, StarkPhone, Security Card and ID.” One of them said, dumping the affermentioned items into your arms.

 

“Here’s the code of conduct manuals, the map of the compound, company credit card and a copy of all the forms you’ll need to fill out for requests.” Another said, piling those on top of the growing pile of things you needed.

 

“Alright, please don’t hand me anything else.” You pleaded with the third one before she could talk.

 

You were starting to suspect that this job was going to be harder than you’d anticipated. You’d been so worried about the more intimate side of it, you’d actually forgotten you were supposed to be doing real work as well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“She’s sweet Steve.”

 

“She is. That’s a good thing!” Steve insisted.

 

“He’ll break her!” Sam said.

 

“He will not! Bucky isn’t like that.”

 

“He’s an ass. This is all your fault, you had to convince him to hire his own assistant didn’t you?” Sam accused.

 

“He’s too suspicious of the one’s we use and he needs help adjusting to everything. I thought if he chose his own one, it would help. And he made a good choice, you said yourself she seems sweet.” Steve pointed out.

 

“Too sweet.” Sam grumbled as he turned the corner.

 

“There’s no such thing.” Steve scoffed.

 

“There is when she’s working for Barnes.”

 

“Sam.” Steve warned.

 

“This is going to end badly, mark my words. I know he’s your friend, I don’t _really_ hate him too much myself but… he’s not good with people Steve. A sweet girl like that, working for a beast like him? It’s going to be a mess.” Sam sighed.

 

“Maybe she’s exactly what he needs. A gentle touch is something Bucky could benefit from. I think this is going to work out perfectly.” Steve said, hoping he was right.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It had been a long, strange day. The triplets as you had taken to calling them, had led you around the compound, pointing out every room to you. They had showed you the ropes so to speak, informing you of your list of duties.

 

It was basically your job to keep Bucky Barnes alive and functioning. You were to make sure he was fed, clothed and where he needed to be every day. You would fend of the reporters who always wanted an interview, keep his appointments, read over and file mission reports (you’d apparently already signed the contracts swearing you to secrecy), log all weapon and tact gear use, clean said weapons and tact gear, drive him wherever he wanted if he asked, shine his shoes if he wanted them shined.

 

It was already awful and you hadn’t started yet.

 

The man himself was apparently not even on the premises at the end of the day, so you just left. You had your Starkphone if he needed you and you weren’t supposed to start till tomorrow anyway.

 

The front door creaked open as you cautiously pushed it open and stood in the frame, the lights from the hallway illuminating you. Your shadow was the only company in the empty home and it was painfully obvious. The house was cold and empty, devoid of the love that usually permeated it. The only sound was your ragged breathing and the click of your heels against the floor before you kicked them off and wandered around your home. Your former home. Because without your father, this was just a building and one that you would be vacating tomorrow.

 

Your foot kicked something and sent it skidding along the floor, making you jump. You picked it up and turned it over in your hands, gazing at it wistfully. Cornflower blue. In his hurry to pack the essential, your father must have dropped this. It was too late at night to call the clinic and ask to speak to him now, it would have to wait until tomorrow.

 

With a heavy heart and a sinking feeling in you stomach you undressed, peeling off your underwear carefully and tossing them in the garbage. They had been uncomfortable to wear all dam day, a constant chafing reminder of who you belonged to. And shamefully, they had remained damp because every time you thought about him your body responded in a way that your brain disapproved off immensely.

 

You stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as you could stand and you scrubbed yourself raw. The almost pain from the scrubbing helped distract you from the aching emptiness between your thighs that had been there all day. You refused to deliberately seek out any kind of satisfaction or pleasure, you wouldn’t give in to him like that. He had forced you to cum once already, but you had been unprepared for it. You knew better now and you would not do it again. You most certainly would not touch yourself while he was on your mind.

 

Just no.

 

Wrapping a towel around yourself you made your way towards your room, almost creeped out by how silent the house was. You knew that there was no way you were going to manage to sleep tonight. You were going to toss and turn all night, thinking about you father and the life that awaited you tomorrow. You decided to just get on with it, your new life. There was no point in waiting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was late and the building was dark and calm, late enough that nearly everyone had gone home or to bed and Peter Parker should really be home himself by now. But as often happened when he was working with Mr Stark, they had gotten so distracted by the science and technology that mundane things like time and real life had slipped beyond their notice. It was only when the dryness in his throat made him cough that Peter managed to tear himself away from the contraption he was helping build and go to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He turned the corner and gaped at what he saw, half convinced the groaning shape stumbling towards him was some kind of terrible monster here to attack the avengers before it passed through a sliver of moonlight and he saw it was a girl, a beautiful girl, weighed down with bags and suitcases.

 

He walked backwards rapidly, falling back into the lab.

 

“Mr Stark! There's a girl in the compound!" he whispered frantically.

 

Tony popped his head up from behind the desk and flipped the spec goggles off.

 

“Alright kid, you’re tired. Time to get you home.” Tony decided.

 

"But really, Mr Stark, I saw her." Peter insisted.

 

“I’m sure you did, but…..” Tony trailed off as the girl in question walked past the glass walls of the lab.

 

"See, I told you!" Peter said happily.

 

“Friday, who is that and why is she in my building?” Tony demanded.

 

“That would be Miss Belle, Boss. Sergeant Barnes new PA.” The AI answered promptly.

 

“Belle? That’s a nice name, suits her. She’s really pretty.” Peter babbled.

 

“How can you tell? She has a suitcase for a head.” Tony joked.

 

“Oh! You’re right.” Peter said, internally facepalming as he rushed out of the lab before Tony could stop him.

 

“Hey, do you need help?” Peter yelled.

 

You’d been struggling along, through the dark halls, minding your own business so when a voice suddenly piped up from right behind you, you whirled around, forgetting you were balancing all your earthly possessions in your arms. The uneven distribution of weight finally proved to much for you and you topped over, heading face first for the floor. Peter reacted instinctively and dove forwards, grabbing you around the middle and holding you up.

 

“Oooft.” You wheezed as all you bags and suitcases crashed to the floor.

 

“I’m so sorry!” He stammered, pulling you to your feet.

 

“It’s ok, I should have just taken two trips. It’s not your fault.” You assured, smiling kindly at the young boy who was rapidly turning a worrying shade of red.

 

“I’m Parker. Peter. Peter Parker.”

 

“Close your mouth kid. Belle is it? Why exactly are you wandering about my halls with 10,000 tonnes of suitcases? You realise there’s a building of burly superhero’s to take advantage of right?” Tony asked, standing in the doorway of the lab with an amused look on his face.

 

“Mr Stark, hello.” You said, sticking your hand out politely.

 

Tony took in the way you were practically vibrating with nerves and blushing and the way you raised your chin and looked him in the eye anyway and decided he liked you.

 

“Hello.” He chirped teasingly, slapping your palm with his instead of shaking your hand.

 

“I was just… moving in?” You offered.

 

“I’ll help, where’s your room?” Peter asked and you turned your head to see him already balancing all your suitcases in his hands and walking down the corridor.

 

“Thank you!” You exclaimed, touched by his kindness.

 

“Where’s your room?” Tony prompted.

 

“Oh, I’m staying in Bucky’s rooms. Not his room, his spare room. In his suite. You probably shouldn’t go in?” You said nervously.

 

“I’ll leave them at the door.” Peter called, already halfway down the corridor.

 

“You’re staying in Barnes spare room? You can have your own you know, I can hook you up.” Tony offered nonchalantly, hiding genuine concern behind his casual attitude.

 

“That’s alright Mr Stark, I think it’s better to be close by in case I’m… needed. I’m not used to being alone anyway.” You assured.

 

“Listen, Barnes is… difficult. If you have any trouble with him, let me know.” He said kindly, almost fatherly.

 

Speaking of fatherly… Bucky was saving your fathers life. You would do whatever the Super Solider asked of you and do it with a damn smile, your pride be damned.

 

“He doesn’t seem so bad. I think I’m going to get along with him fine. But thank you.” You lied politely.

 

“I left them on the floor in the hall outside his door, are you sure you can manage them from there?” Peter asked, bounding towards you.

 

“I can, I’ve got it. Thank you Mr Parker.” You said, smiling fondly at the sweet kid who reminded you of a Springer Spaniel.

 

“Goodnight Miss Belle.” He called as you walked away and you spun around to wave at him.

 

“Told you she was pretty.” Peter whispered to Tony.

 

You made your way to your new home and saw that the door to Bucky’s suite was open and your bags were nowhere to be seen. You peered inside curiously, only to see Bucky walking out of the room he’d assigned you.

 

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all night?” He asked, without glancing at you.

 

You closed the door behind you as you made your way inside and to your room.

 

“Oh, wow.” You gasped.

 

The bedroom wasn’t at all what you expected. You figured it would be very basic but it wasn’t. The walls were a warm greyish blue, the floors were dark wood laminate flooring and there was a black fur rug covering the floor. It was all very cosy and inviting but hardly gasp worthy. It was the bed, the dark wooden four poster queensize bedframe that had been draped with mounds of fluffy, plump pillows and soft looking blankets that had caught your attention.

 

“What were you expecting, a damp dark cell?” Bucky scoffed, noticing the look on your face.

 

“I just wasn’t expecting quite so much… comfort.” You admitted.

 

“Starks big on things like that.” Bucky said, hurriedly picking up a discarded tag from the new pillows that he had missed earlier, before you spotted it.

 

You stifled a yawn that was building in your throat, seeing the ridiculously looking comfy bed was making you realise just how tired you were.

 

“Keep out of my room.” Bucky snapped, out of the blue.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“My room. It’s off limits to you. No matter what happens you never ever go in my room. Do you understand me?” He said seriously and you nodded.

 

“I’ll stay out of your room, I promise.” You said softly, a little frightened by the harsh expression on his face.

 

“You can go wherever you want in the compound. Use whatever, the gym or the theatre. I don’t care. As long as you get everything that I tell you to do done and you come running when I call, I don’t give a damn what you do when I’m not using you.” He snapped and you winced at the wording.

 

“I understand.”

 

His expression softened slightly when he saw you wince but you didn’t notice, you were busy looking at the bed again. It occurred to you that as comfy as it looked, it would be used for more than sleeping. You felt him move behind you and you were very quickly enclosed in his arms as he picked you up like you weighed nothing and threw you across the room. You yelped as you landed on the gigantic bed, sinking into the mattress.

 

“Sleep. You’re going to need your rest.” He warned, slamming your bedroom door closed behind himself and leaving you alone with one consuming terrifying thought bouncing around your skull.

 

You were disappointed that he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess I'm doing this story then, it's been greenlit! All the feedback made me realise that you guys wanted to read it and so I shall write it. Thank you :D 
> 
> No smut, just the setting up of some plot points. Some Easter Eggs as well... ((The Bimbettes (Individual names Claudette, Laurette and Paulette) are identical blonde triplets who fawn over Gaston in Beauty and the Beast.))


	4. Chapter 4

Cocooned in cashmere blankets, resting your head on feather pillows, you were deeply asleep and having the most wonderful dream. It was all hazy pleasure and a warm feeling deep in your gut that just felt _right,_ until you woke up and realised you weren’t alone.  Metal fingers grazed along your hip, toying with the hem of your tank top and you turned your head to see Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, smirking at you. You groaned and turned away, burying your face in the pillow. The bed shifted and you felt him settle behind you. 

 

“You were calling my name.” His smug voice whispered in your ear.

 

“What?” You asked, your blood running cold.

 

“In your sleep, you were calling my name. What exactly was I doing in your dream to make you call for me like that?” He teased.

 

“I don’t remember.” You lied.

 

“Was it anything like this?” He asked, brushing his lips across your neck.

 

His breath fanned across your throat and you forgot whatever response you’d been about to give when his tongue licked across your pulse point. His mouth, so hot and wet, pressed open mouthed kisses along your skin and without thinking about it you bent your arm to reach behind yourself and tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him into your neck, a silent plea for him not to stop. His hand slid under the waistband of your pyjama shorts to cup your mound and you spread your legs, granting him access. He slid his other arm under your ribs and pulled you back into his body, cupping your breasts through your shirt as his metal fingers pushed between your lips and found your clit, teasing at it.

 

“Bucky” You sighed and he growled in response.

 

His mouth was suckling at your throat, his teeth nipping and grazing at your skin while his fingers played with your body skilfully, pushing you into a stupors, consuming haze of pleasure. The way his fingers rubbed against your clit had you panting and moaning for him as you distractedly moved your hand to brush away the annoying trickle of blood running down your chest.

 

Wait, blood? As soon as you realised there was blood you realised that the pleasure at your neck was in fact pain.

 

With no warning you were naked, on your back beneath him. He towered above you on his knees, his body all hard muscles and sharp lines. His hair hung loose, framing his face and casting an impenetrable shadow across his features. Blood dripped from his mouth and splashed onto your stomach and with a jolt of fear you knew it was your blood. He was eating you alive, and you weren’t going to stop him. His hands snatched at your hips, raising your bottom half of the bed and you wrapped your legs around his waist as his cock plunged inside you, making you arch your spine with a scream of ecstasy. He thrust inside you relentlessly with inhuman strength and it felt so good you didn’t care about anything else, tangling your fingers in his hair when he leant forward to sink his teeth into your flesh. The noises he made were animalistic, almost demonic as he devoured you.

 

Blood run down your body, being smeared between the two of you as you moved in tandem. Something inside you was building,  a loud drumbeat banging towards an overpowering crescendo. Something was coming, either pleasure or death. It didn’t matter which. 

 

“WILL YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

 

Your bedroom door crashed open, hitting the wall with a loud band and you sat up, gasping for breath. For a few moments you were caught between reality and the dream, unable to tell which was which.

 

“What?” You asked, befuddled.

 

“I’ve been knocking.” Bucky huffed, standing in the doorway glaring at you.

 

You frantically ran your hands across your throat, relieved to find no wounds or blood.

 

“What were you dreaming about?” He asked, in what almost sounded like concern as he watched the way you clutched at your neck.

 

“I… Nothing. I don’t remember.” You lied, pulling the covers up to your chin to cover yourself.

 

“You’re lying.” He stated and you gulped audibly.

 

“Our agreement gives you unrestricted access to my body, not my mind. That’s off limits.” You told him, crossing your arms defiantly under the blanket.

 

“Well get your body out of bed and get ready. I’m going for a run with Steve and Sam and I want you showered and dressed when I get back. I’ll be hungry after my run as well, so get on that.” He snapped.

 

“I’m your assistant, not your housewife.” You muttered under your breath.

 

Unfortunately he heard you.

 

“If I drag you to the courthouse this afternoon will you start making me breakfast without whining about it?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

 

“Honestly? It seems unlikely.” You said.

 

“You’re sassy in the morning. I don’t like it.” He told you.

 

“You said I had to do whatever you wanted, you didn’t say I had to do it without complaining.” You pointed out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

 

“Do whatever I want without complaining about it.” He ordered.

 

“Touché.” You said, acknowledging that you’d walked into that one.

 

“Make sure there’s coffee as well. A lot of it.” He said.

 

“Want me to get you a newspaper as well? Freshly squeezed orange juice?” You enquired with as much sweetness as you could muster.

 

“The coffee’s for you, I’m hoping it will make you more bearable. Why do you keep rubbing your neck?” He asked, eyes on your throat.

 

You stopped, not realizing you had been doing it in the first place.

 

“I slept funny, I have a crick.” You said.

 

“You’re lying again.” He said and you frowned.

 

“How do you know that?” You asked.

 

“I’m a good judge of character. Tell me why you’re doing it.” He demanded.

 

“I had a weird dream ok? My neck got… injured.” You sighed.

 

He stepped forward and reached out to brush your hand out of the way and check your neck for himself and you flinched away almost violently. He froze, looking between his metal arm and your throat with a dark haunted expression. Realisation seemed to dawn on him and he turned around without a word and strode away. When you heard the door slam you let out a shuddering breath as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. You thought about the way he’d looked at his metal limb and your neck and you swore as you realized that because you’d flinched away from it, he thought you were afraid of it.

 

He probably assumed your nightmare had been about him. He was partially right, but still oh so wrong. Because you couldn’t truly call it a nightmare, the slick wetness between your legs was proof of that. It was a warning of what would happen if you weren’t careful.

 

 

One very cold shower and two cups of coffee later, you weren’t feeling any better. Your dream had really messed with your head and you were torn between contrasting and conflicting emotions. You didn’t have to be an expert in dream psychology to know that you were afraid of giving into Bucky and being taken over by him, even worse, enjoying it. On the other hand, you were wracked with guilt for making him think you were afraid of him.

 

Yes he was a bastard, he was cruel and twisted. He had treated you like a whore, but that was all you were to him. It didn’t mean you found his behaviour acceptable in any way and you wouldn’t be giving him any personality awards any time soon, but while you didn’t like him, you also didn’t hate him. You certainly didn’t want him to think you were scared of his arm. Of all the things you had a problem with about that man, his prosthetic wasn’t one of them. And your fathers life depended upon him.

 

So yes, you were still a whore. Bucky’s whore. But you were a very well paid whore, and it could be a lot worse. You needed to remember that and look on the bright side of this less than ideal situation. And most importantly, you needed to remember that no matter how good it felt, no matter how handsome he was, no matter how badly your body wanted it, you could not give in. You were here for his pleasure, not your own.

 

As soon as he walked back in the door you spoke.

 

“I’m not afraid of your arm. I’m not afraid of you.” You blurted and he froze.

 

You were stood next to the table, an assortment of breakfast foods you’d made all dished up and waiting because you’d had no idea what he liked.

 

“What _are_ you afraid of?” He asked.

 

“What if I told you I had limits? Things I didn’t want to do?” You asked gently, testing the waters.

 

“You didn’t want me to cum inside you at first, you quickly got over that.” He said coldly.

 

“And even if I hadn’t, you were doing it anyway right?” You said bitterly.

 

You didn’t see the flash of guilt or disgust in his eyes.

 

“Alright, give me your hard limits.” He said.

 

“Why? So you can get off on pushing past them?” You snapped.

 

“You signed the contract doll, you didn’t have to. I didn’t force you in any way. I just made you an offer and you accepted. You want to change your mind? Want me to tear it up?” He snarled.

 

You honestly didn’t know if he was bluffing or not but it didn’t matter, you both knew that you weren’t going to call it.

 

“That’s not what I was getting at.” You huffed.

 

“Good. Then tell me what it is you’re so afraid I’m going to do to you.” He demanded.

 

You clenched your jaw and raised your chin defiantly. He sighed heavily and his head hung low, hair falling across his face.

 

“Tell me, please.” He pleaded.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I don’t want. I… I don’t want you to try and make me cum.” You admitted and his head snapped up to look at you.

 

“You don’t want to enjoy it?” He asked incredulously.

 

“You said you didn’t care if I came or not, you just didn’t want me to fake it.” You reminded him.

 

“That was before.” He whispered.

 

“Before what?” You asked.

 

“Fine. That’s your hard limit? I won’t make you cum.” He said, standing up and stalking over to you.

 

“Get in your room and lie on the bed.” He ordered.

 

You sighed and nodded, doing as you were told. It was a few moments before he followed, his whole body rigid with some kind of unidentifiable dark emotion. Wordlessely he stood next to the bed and reached up to yank your jeans off, pulling them over your hips and throwing them over the floor. He eyed your underwear contemplatively before he pulled them off as well.

 

“Touch yourself.” He said lowly and stepped back to watch you, his eyes hungrily drinking you in.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked.

 

“I wouldn't want to push your limits but you swore that you would do whatever I said when I said it. So spread your legs, and touch yourself.”

 

Your heart was racing , sending your blood thundering through your veins so fast that you felt light headed. Like they had a mind of their own your legs parted for him and you saw his eyes darken at the way you were laid bare before him. Tentatively, and shyly you gently teased your fingers along your slit, dipping into it and your middle finger across your clit just barely touching it.

 

“Spread your pussy for me, if I don't get to do this to you I want a damn good view.” He ordered.

 

Your breath shuddered out of you as you did as you were told, propping yourself up on your pillow and parting your lips with your fingers with one hand. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and his whole body jerked, like he was physically restraining himself.  He stood at the end of the bed, watching shrewdly as you slid your fingers down, gathering up your wetness with them and using it to rub massage smoothly against your throbbing clit. You might have told yourself that you didn’t want this but your body definitely did. Your breath came in shallow pants as you worked yourself over, under his watchful gaze. Just knowing he was watching, knowing his eyes were glued to your pussy made it wetter and you had to bite down on your lip hard to stop from moaning his name.

 

“Faster.” He told you and you obeyed, your fingers speeding up.

 

You ran your clit between two fingers and rubbed them together, creating a delicious friction. As good as it felt, you were empty and it was causing a needy ache. You slowly slid a finger inside yourself and he snarled, grabbing you by the ankles and yanking you down the bed until you slammed into his crotch. He probably didn’t intent for it to feel so good but the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the hardness of his cock underneath felt too good against your bare cunt and without any sort of permission from your brain, your hips gyrated, rubbing yourself against him. He froze in shock, perhaps at the brazenness of your action or the hypocrisy.

 

“So I’m not allowed to get you off, but you’re allowed to get yourself off on me?” He asked angrily, pulling his shirt off.

 

You were already confused, being swallowed by desire and his body only messed with your lust addled brain more and you whimpered at the sight of him. Your dream, as sick as it was, had done him justice.

 

“Go on then… Cum for me, on me.” He demanded, pushing his hips into you until your back arched off the bed.

 

You eagerly accepted the offer, squeezing your thighs around his hips so you could gently drag your by now, soaking wet pussy over his clothed length.

 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I’m sorry! I want you, I do.” You admitted.

 

Your whole body was aflame with desire for him and as much as you wished you could deny it, you couldn’t.

 

“You want me?” He growled and you closed your eyes in shame and nodded.

 

He shoved his sweatpants and underwear down in one smooth, rapid move and grabbed your hips, running his cock along your slit.

 

“Say it.” He demanded.

 

“I want you.” You said immediately.

 

“Not that.” He snapped.

 

You knew what he wanted, you knew what you had to say. Your brain warred with your body but the way his cock rubbed against you was too much to fight against. It hadn’t even been one day and you were already giving in to him, that how weak you were.

 

Or how irresistible he was.

 

“I want to cum for you. I want you to make me cum.” You begged.

 

You had managed to wipe the memory of how painful it was, taking his cock inside you but you were quickly reminded as his head pushed past your folds, penetrating you swiftly. His girth stretched you, burning straight away before he was even a full inch inside you and it was perfect. The pain, the pleasure, it all mingled together. Every centimetre he pushed in, you felt. It was slow, torturous and wonderful and just when you felt the tip of him brush your cervix, his body met yours and he bottomed out.

 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles behind him as he cupped your breasts, distracting you while you adjusted to his size.

 

“Are you ready?” He hissed quietly, twitching his hips.

 

“Yes, god yes.”

 

“Good.” He snapped, pulling out of you completely and flipped you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, your face pressed to the soft cashmere sheets.

 

He slammed into you, no trace of care or tenderness and you screamed, partially in pain, mostly in pleasure while as fast as he’d entered, he withdrew and slammed into you again. It felt good, it really did, even if somewhere in the back of your mind you knew he was too big to do this without it hurting you. You were going to be sore for days but fuck, if it wasn’t worth it. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head back until your spine was bent at an almost unnatural angle while he fucked you wildly, like a man possessed. His metal hand wrapped around your throat and held you in place, squeezing ever so slightly. It was enough to let you know what he could do but not enough to cut off your oxygen supply.

 

The animalisticness of it, the roughness, the possessiveness was too much for you to bear and your orgasm built rapidly. When he felt your walls begin to twitch around him and your moans grow in pitch and frequency, he pulled out and a few short seconds later you heard him grunt and felt him ejaculate over your ass.

 

You pushed your face into the blanket with a half sob, realising what he was doing. He wasn’t going to let you cum, he was going to force you to keep to your own hard limit.

 

“I’ll know if you touch yourself and I’ll punish you for it in ways you can’t imagine.” He warned.

 

You kept your face buried in the blanket, too weak and afraid to look at him right now because your body was trembling with need and it hurt. You heard him pick up his clothes and walk out and only then did you stand up, your legs quivering.

 

Making you break your own rule wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to torture you until you begged him to let you break it. A part of you, the very very horny part, wanted to give in and beg. The rest of you, the part that still had pride, wanted to ignore him. There was also a stupid part of you that was tempted to make yourself cum anyway, consequences be damned but you knew better than to listen to that part. You heard the shower switch on and realised you’d either have to wait, or join him.

 

You’d wait.

 

But you’d given in to him on the first morning. You hadn’t even made it a few hours before spreading your legs and begging him to take you. How the hell were you going to stand a chance of winning this battle of wills?


	5. Chapter 5

“I’ve been on hold for an hour! He’s a patient, how hard is it to put me through to a patient!” You snapped.

 

You had been trying all day to get a hold of your father but it was like some kind of impossible task. After being passed around to three different departments, several different nurses and one orderly you had been put through to a very nice elderly man who was not your father but was so happy someone had called to speak to him that you had ended up talking to him for a whole hour and promising you’d call again soon. You had then finally been given a separate number for the patient line and were still on hold.

 

“No, no don’t put me back on hold!” You hurriedly begged in vain.

 

You groaned as the repetitive notes of the chirpy hold music played.

 

“Excuse me, can you sign here?” The delivery man asked, again.

 

You mouthed an apology and signed the screen quickly and balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear picked up the food delivery you’d had brought in. There was a communal kitchen as well as a small kitchenette in each room and after asking around you discovered Bucky preferred to use his own. With a little help from Friday you brought up Bucky’s order history and managed to construct a shopping list from it. Your tablet beeped with a notification from the laundry department in the basement, asking you to come pick up Bucky’s laundry and you whined.

 

You were exhausted. It was only mid morning and you were half dead on your feet. You managed to get the shopping put away and ran down to the laundry, still listening to the awful hold music. Armed with piles of carefully wrapped dry-cleaning you managed to get into the elevator and sunk against the wall, smiling politely at the man sharing the elevator.

 

“Do you need some help?” He whispered.

 

“I can manage, thank you though.” You shook your head and sighed.

 

“Are you sure? It’s just, you’re limping.” He pointed out.

 

Your face suddenly felt very warm.

 

“It’s just the heels.” You lied.

 

You couldn’t exactly admit you were walking funny because your super soldier boss had bent you over and fucked you that morning.

 

“Ah. Well if it’s any consolation, I think you look amazing in them.” He grinned, looking at your legs.

 

“As a matter of fact, your approval has made the pain incredibly bearable.” You said sarcastically.

 

“Well, I’m glad I can help. Let me know if you change your mind about accepting some help.” He said, winking and slipping out of the elevator doors as the whooshed open.

 

You kind of wished you had actually admitted why you were really limping. You got out of the elevator after him, hoping to make a quick run for the corridor.

 

“I’m Ben” He told you.

 

“Hi Ben, bye Ben.”

 

You would have felt a lot more victorious about your escape if you weren’t **_still_** on hold. To contend with the practically permanent ache between your legs, you now had a crick in your neck. You had to use your elbow and a lot of awkward leaning to get the door to Bucky’s room open.

 

“Oh thank god you’re here!” You exclaimed when you saw him standing in the living room.

 

“Why?” He asked, looking stricken.

 

“I have your clothes but I’m not allowed in your room so here.” You said, flinging them down on the couch.

 

You straightened your back with a groan.

 

“Who are you on the phone to?” He asked, tilting his head to listen to the music with a confused look.

 

“The clinic, I’m trying to speak to my father, I’ve been trying all day. I have to go pick up and fill out the requisition forms for some kind of rifle you asked for? I don’t know. Bye.” You told him with a friendly wave and rushed back out of the door.

 

He stared after you for at least five minutes before he finally moved.

 

“Friday, where’s Stark? I need a favour from him.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sometime after you’d eaten lunch, someone had finally taken you off of hold to tell you that your dad was with his doctors and you should phone back in a couple of hours. After you hung up you banged your head against the desk a couple of dozen times. You had been assigned a small, modest office. It had a desk, a chair, a filing cabinet and a window and that was it.

 

“Friday?”

 

“Yes Miss?”

 

“Do I really have to fill out all these forms for a rifle? Can’t I just go buy it myself?” You grumbled.

 

“It’s a 70 thousand dollar piece of weaponry.” She informed you.

 

“What? Why? Why does he need a 70 thousand dollar rifle?” You yelped.

 

“I believe he lost the last one.”

 

“HOW?”

 

“Got knocked out of my hands during a fight with Hydra operatives in the Balkans last month. Didn’t have time to go back for it, was busy trying not to get blown up. Well, actually I was busy trying to stop Steve getting himself blown up.” Bucky answered, opening your office door.

 

“Oh. Well that’s fair… Captain America probably costs a little more to replace.” You said sheepishly.

 

“This room is depressing.” He noted, looking around.

 

“Well, It’s an office not The Magic Kingdom.” You told him.

 

“You like it like this?” He asked derisively.

 

“No, but I haven’t exactly had time to redecorate. Besides it’s fine, I’ll add some personal effects later.” You said, looking around.

 

“Give me your tablet.” He demanded.

 

You handed it over nervously and he immediately started fiddling with it. There was a ringing sound coming from it when he handed it back and you looked at the screen with a frown before the ringing stopped and suddenly you were looking at your father face.

 

“Dad?”

 

“Sweetheart! Hello! * **cough** * Can you hear me?” He shouted.

 

“Dad, yes! I can hear you! Are you ok?” You asked frantically.

 

Bucky smiled softly at the way you brightened straight away, gazing down at the screen with concentration.

 

“I’m just fine. You were right, this is a wonderful place. They are taking such good care of me. Do thank your bosses for this won’t you?”

 

You looked up to do exactly that but Bucky had already slipped away.

 

“I will daddy, I will. Tell me everything.” You demanded.

 

“Well they have me on * **Cough** * this new breathing apparatus.” He said, holding up the oxygen mask to the camera.

 

“Are they nice? Are they smart?” You demanded.

 

“Very nice, just lovely. Very smart, they know lots of big words.” He assured.

 

“You’re coughing less.” You noted.

 

“Yes, they gave me new medication. * **cough** *. It helps with the symptoms.” He said.

 

“Dad, how are we talking? You don’t have a tablet, you don’t even have a cellphone.”

 

“It was delivered a few minutes ago, with very clear instructions on how to turn it on. I thought you sent it.” He said excitedly.

 

“No… no, it wasn’t me.” You said, the corners of your lips turning up as you realised what had happened.

 

“Well tell me * **cough** * about this new job.”

 

“It’s… hard work. But I think I like it, it’s not as difficult as I thought it would be.” You admitted with a grin.

 

“Should you be calling? Are you * **cough** * at work right now?” He asked with concern.

 

You waved a form at him.

 

“I’m working, don’t worry.” You laughed.

 

“Good, good girl. Well don’t * **cough** * be letting me distract you. I’ll still be here when you get home. I even know how to charge this contraption, the instructions were * **cough** * very helpful!” He said cheerfully.

 

“Ok, well I’ll call tonight ok? Oh and there a man in room 4a, very nice man. His name is Donald Beaton, go say hello.”

 

“I will sweetheart, goodbye. I love you.”

 

“I love you too daddy.” You said, blowing him a kiss and hanging up.

 

You gently placed the tablet down on your desk and took a deep, shuddering inhale before you were springing up and running out of the door. Your heels clacked against the floor, pain forgotten as you raced through the compound. You found Bucky about the enter the gym.

 

“Bucky!” You called.

 

He turned around to look at you and you pulled to a stop in front of him , breathing heavily. He raised a quizzical eyebrow you. He tensed up as you put your hand on his shoulder .

 

“Thank you.” You said firmly, looking deep into his eyes.

 

He nodded shakily and licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry. When you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek all the tension disappeared under your touch as he practically melted into you. When you pulled away he nearly stumbled and when you walked away, throwing one last smile over your shoulder at him he just stared after you, awestruck. When you turned the corner, out of sight he brushed his fingers across his cheek and walked backwards, away from the gym.

 

“Isn’t Bucky meeting us?” Sam asked.

 

“Guess he’s late.” Steve shrugged, setting up the punchbag.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

You balanced a bag of Chinese takeout against your hip and a locked case with a 70 thousand dollar rifle in your arms as you dragged your very very tired self back to your office. You still had a mountain of forms to fill in so you were planning on having a working dinner. You dropped the stupid rifle haphazardly on your desk and very carefully placed the bag of food next to it.

 

“Well I cam to see if you wanted dinner, looks like you already have that covered.”

 

You looked up in alarm at Ben who was leaning against the windowsill, smirking at you.

 

“Do you have an appointment?” You asked.

 

“For dinner?”

 

“To be in my office.” You snapped.

 

“Do I need one?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Can’t make an exception, just for me?” He asked with what you assumed was supposed to be a charming grin.

 

“Nope.”

 

“How about grabbing some dinner with me? I’ll even let you wear flats.” He asked, stepping forwards.

 

“Oh will you? How kind.” You said, rolling your eyes.

 

“So, shall we?” He asked.

 

“No.” You said flatly.

 

“No what?” He asked, smiling away.

 

“No, we shan’t.” You clarified.

 

“Ok… I can meet you in the somewhere if you like?” He offered.

 

“Just because you can it doesn’t mean you should.” You said.

 

“I’m confused.” Ben said, frowning quizzically at you.

 

“Perpetually I bet. I don’t want to have dinner with you, now or in the future, but thank you for asking.” You said politely as you could be bothered.

 

“Well how about coffee?” He tried.

 

“I’m not interested.” You told him straight.

 

“Breakfast?” He pushed.

 

“Still a no.”

 

“Are you seeing someone?” He enquired.

 

“No.”

 

Unbeknown to the two of you, this was the point when Bucky approached your office door and paused, hearing your voices.

 

“Then why not have a drink with me?” He tried.

 

“Because I don’t want to.” You informed him, again.

 

“I bet I can change your mind.” He smirked.

 

“You can’t.” You stated.

 

“Give me a chance.” He asked, growing irritated.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Well now you’re just being rude.” He admonished.

 

“And you’re being desperate.” You retorted.

 

“Listen, you’re pretty and you’re new around here so maybe you don’t get how it works. If a man, especially one with a much higher position than you is nice enough to ask you to dinner, it’s polite to accept.” He snapped.

 

“And I really shouldn’t be rude should I? it’s unbecoming.” You said with a chastised expression.

 

“Exactly.” He said, pleased he’d appeared to get through to you.

 

Bucky snarled lowly and put his hand on the door handle when your saccharine sweet voice stopped him.

 

“Alright then. Thank you so very much for your generous and gallant offer good sir but I am afraid I must politely decline on account of the fact that I simply do not want to accept.” You said.

 

“Why the hell not?” He demanded.

 

“Sarcasm seems to go over your head and no is not a word you comprehend, that gives you low intelligence points. You’re misogynistic, pushy and kind of creepy so charisma points are low as well. You’d need to be absolutely drop dead gorgeous to counteract both of those things enough for me to want to spend time with you and the fact that I have said no should tell you all you need to know there.” You listed off.

 

He gaped at you. Outside, Bucky smirked.

 

“Whew, I’m pretty winded. You have a lot of flaws to list, you should work on that.” You said, waving him towards the door.

 

“Stuck up bitch.” He muttered under his breath, storming out of the office.

 

He didn’t see Bucky, concealed in a shadow as he scurried away. Bucky resisted the urge to step out of the shadows and teach the sleaze a lesson, you’d already done that. He smirked again as he remembered the way you’d cut the man down with your words. He moved back towards your office, desperate to see if you would accept _his_ offer of company.

 

That was when you finally noticed the huge bouquet of red roses on your desk in a crystal vase. You looked around for a card, but there wasn’t one. You didn’t want Ben’s company and you certainly didn’t want his flowers. Scoffing at them, you swept them off the desk and straight into the bin. You didn’t see the card that had fallen off the desk and landed under it and you didn’t see Bucky Barnes stood in the open doorway behind you with a wounded expression.

 

By the time you turned around to slam your office door closed, there was no one there and Bucky was halfway down the corridor wondering why your rejection of his affection was making his chest hurt so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle: *Is nice to Bucky*  
> Bucky: *Goes soft*  
> Belle: *Is mean to someone else*  
> Bucky: *Gets hard*


	6. Chapter 6

“Why doesn’t she like me?” Bucky demanded.

 

Steve looked up from the tv as he barged into his room and started pacing.

 

“I assume we’re talking about Belle?” Steve checked.

 

“What am I doing wrong?” He asked exasperatedly.

 

“What happened?” Steve said.

 

“I know I’m a little… damaged. I know that. But I thought, I just thought….” He couldn’t get the words out.

 

Steve sighed and realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere by asking questions.

 

“I’m trying.” Bucky said softly.

 

“I know you are Buck, everyone knows. You’re doing well.” Steve consoled him.

 

“She was soft, and kind and sweet and she didn’t make my skin crawl. It felt real, she felt real. I just wanted to hold onto that.”

 

“What do you mean she felt real?” Steve asked suspiciously.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Bucky bemoaned, sitting down heavily on the sofa and holding his head in his hands.

 

“You realise I have no idea what’s going on right?” Steve checked.

 

“Belle, she hates me.” Bucky explained succinctly.

 

“What? Did she say something?” Steve asked, surprised and defensive.

 

“No. I can just tell. And why wouldn’t she? I haven’t exactly been nice to her.”

 

“Well maybe try being nice to her then Buck, it shouldn’t be too difficult. You used to be a dab hand at charming dames.” Steve scoffed.

 

“How?”

 

“What?

 

“How do I make her like me?” Bucky pushed.

 

"Impress her with your rapier wit, Shower her with compliments." 

 

“It won’t work. Nothing will work, she’s never going to see me as anything except a monster. I don’t care, she’s just a girl. I’ll just ignore her unless she’s doing her job.” Bucky decided, temper taking over.

 

“I could be wrong, but that might not be the best way to win the girl's affections." Steve said dryly.

 

“I don’t give a damn about her affections.” Bucky said, standing up and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

 

“Good talk…” Steve sighed to himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Pssst” 

 

“No, g’way.” You mumbled, turning over to bury your head in the pillow only to send up smooshing your face into a cold, hard surface.

 

You abruptly sat up and realised you were at your desk. Someone chuckled and peeled the form that was stuck to you off of your face.

 

“Mr Stark!” You yelped, smoothing your hair back.

 

“Imagine my surprise when I follow the smell of Chinese food and find an employee sleeping at their desk.” He joked, shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

 

“I am so sorry sir, I swear I didn’t mean to do it, I don’t even know how it happened.” You said hurriedly.

 

“On your first day as well.”

 

“It will never happen again.” You swore.

 

“You’re not making a great first impression.” He warned.

 

“I… well you’re the one stealing my food.” You retorted indignantly.

 

He smirked and shoved the largest mouthful of noodles he could into his mouth, chewing loudly.

 

“I really am sorry though.” You said quietly, ducking your head.

 

“It’s 10’o’clock at night kiddo, I’m not mad you fell asleep, I’m worried that you didn’t go to your room.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

 

“I have a lot of work to get through.” You sighed.

 

“It’ll still be here tomorrow, go to bed.” He told you.

 

“But…”

 

“That’s an order.” He interrupted.

 

“Can you order me? I work for Sergeant Barnes…” You pointed out, biting down on a grin.

 

“Yeah well he might be the one paying you but you are technically employed by me. So scram.” He instructed, flapping his hands at you until you stood up.

 

You quickly put your things away and slid the rest of the takeout towards him.

 

“Ah, yes. I’ll clean this up for you.” He smirked, winking at you.

 

“How kind of you.” You laughed.

 

“If I catch you here again I’m going to be having strict words with your boss.” He warned as you switched the light off and left the office with him.

 

“I won’t, I promise.” You swore, crossing your heart.

 

He nodded in satisfaction and wandered away in the opposite direction. You slowly, tiredly walked back towards your room, slipping your heels off and carrying them. Halfway there you remembered the rifle you’d forgotten and hurried back, peeking around the corner and sneaking into the office like a ninja in case Mr Stark caught you.

 

“Whatcha doin?” His voice asked you just as you laid hands on the case.

 

“Friday, you snitch!” You yelped, looking around and realising he wasn’t there, he was addressing you through the AI.

 

“Don’t blame Friday, blame yourself. I knew you were shady looking.” He teased.

  
“Well excuse me for not wanting to leave a very expensive deadly weapon lying around in an unlocked office.” You said haughtily and picking it up.

 

“Actually that’s fair. Get that rifle to where it needs to be and get your ass to bed.” He ordered.

 

“Yes Sir, Mr Stark Sir, Right Away Sir.” You grumbled.

 

“You know I can hear you right?”

 

“Yes sir.” You smirked.

 

“Bed, now.” You heard him say and then mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘sassy little shit’.

 

Not wanting to push your luck any further you quickly made your way back to your room. As soon as you closed the door to Bucky’s suite behind you and leaned against it exhaustedly, your eyes swept the dark, quiet room. Seeing it was empty you tiptoed towards his door, leaving the rifle case by his door and headed for your own room. As soon as your hand touched the door handle he spoke.

 

“You’re late.”

 

You screamed, dropping your shoes and pressing your hand to your chest, trying to contain your racing heart. You looked around the living area again, still not seeing him until he reached out and switched a lamp on. He was sat on the sofa, waiting.

 

“What. The. Fuck?” You huffed, trying to calm down.

 

“We need to talk.” He stated, emotionless.

 

“Ok?” You said nervousness evident in your tone.

 

You timidly approached him, sitting as close to him as you dared. He stiffened at your proximity and you hurriedly scooted away.

 

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, less nervous and more worried about him now.

 

“Do you care?” He snapped.

 

“Yes.” You said straight away, without even thinking.

 

Your quick response startled both of you, and you frowned at each other.

 

“It’s my job to care.” You amended, berating yourself at how harsh it sounded.

 

“We aren’t friends. I was wrong to muddy the lines by showing you… undue kindness. You work for me, nothing more.” He spat hatefully, glaring at you and you flinched at the anger in his tone.

 

“What?” You asked, hurt by the way he had suddenly turned on you.

 

“Is this… is this because I kissed you on the cheek?” You demanded and his jaw clenched.

 

“You’re a whore, I want your submission not your affection.” He told you coldly.

 

You tensed up at the vile announcement.

 

“Very well. Thank you for reminding me exactly what my purpose here is, I was starting to forget.” You hissed, blinking back the sudden tears that were prickling at your eyes.

 

“We aren’t friends.” He repeated.

 

“No, we certainly are not.” You confirmed.

 

“Good.”

 

“So are we done here or do you need me to submit to you before I go to sleep?” You asked harshly.

 

He clenched his fists and glared at you and you knew what was coming before he moved.

 

“Go to bed.” He snapped and you blinked in surprise.

 

“Before I change my mind, go!” He roared and you shot out of your seat.

 

You all but ran for the room, flinging the door open but there was one last thing you had to say before you closed it.

 

“My father means everything to me. That’s why I’m here. So even if you’re back to being a complete asshole, I’m still grateful you made sure I could talk to him. Thank you, even if your regret it..” You said stiffly before closing the door.

 

You pressed your hands to your mouth the stifle the sobs that wrenched themselves from you, not wanting him to hear them. You flung yourself onto the bed and buried your face into the nearest pillow, the tears falling uncontrollably. You felt helpless and hopeless, lost and trapped. This was your life now, the plaything of this horrible man and there was no way out. All you could do was cry. You didn’t usually feel sorry for yourself but it was just too much to fight against and you let the tears come, until your body finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

 

Bucky stood at your door listening to you cry, wishing he could just open the door. But he was the reason you were crying and he couldn’t make it any better, his presence would only make it worse. Eventually the gut wrenching sobs quietened down and he cautiously opened the door and peered inside your room. You were curled up on top of the blankets, still in your work clothes and he had every intention of closing the door and leaving but his feet moved off their own accord until he was standing next to the bed. Your breathing was deep and even, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheek as you slept soundlessly.

 

He hoped whatever you were dreaming about, it was better than reality. You shivered violently and he grudgingly slipped his arm under your waist and picked you up gently to put you under the blanket. You turned in his arms and nuzzled your face into his chest and he actually felt his heart skip a beat. Instinctively your arms wrapped around his neck and your burrowed as close to him as you could.

 

“Stop that.” He admonished but you of course ignored him, asleep as you were.

 

He tried to put you down on the bed but your arms were firmly locked around him and he ended up awkwardly bent over, trying to prise you off of him without waking you. You made a low noise of contentment in the back of your throat and pressed your cheek against his chest, sighing softly.

 

“I said stop it!” He whispered to no effect.

 

His heart was jackhammering in his chest and he felt warm all over. He started to feel lightheaded and realised he’d stopped breathing. Pulling in a breath and forcing his lungs to restart he managed to pull your arms away from his neck and gently placed them by your sides. Just when he thought he’d made his escape your fingers laced with his before he could move away and you turned onto your side, wrapping your arm and his under yourself. Since he was trying to be gentle and not wake you he was unceremoniously yanked onto the bed, his legs hanging over the side.

 

Internally swearing he balanced precariously on one elbow so he didn’t crush you as he tried to retrieve his other arm from your clutches but it was difficult, since you had his metal arm held close to your body, practically curled around it. Against his will, his lips quirked up at the corners and he smiled softly at the scene, his heart swelling in his chest. Until he remembered the way you’d tossed his flowers away and rejected any advances from him. You were asleep, you didn’t know what you were doing. If you woke up right now you’d be disgusted, with him and yourself.

 

He balanced on his knees and grabbed a pillow, using his enhanced speed and assassin reflexes to yank his arm out of your grip and replace it with the pillow. He froze as he waited to see if he’d gotten away with it and you shifted, stirring a little before you settled down again and he breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled the duvet over you and tucked it around you, making sure you were covered and warm before he turned to leave.

 

Something stopped him, some niggling feeling in his gut that was telling him that this was the closest he would ever get to you without seeing fear or hatred or disgust on your face. He slowly turned around to look at you again, so peaceful and calm. His fingers brushed against your cheek tenderly, mentally memorizing the perfect lines of your face. When he blinked, there was a dampness there that wasn’t before.

 

“Goodnight Belle.” He whispered, slipping out of the room, quiet as a shadow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky: How do I make her like me?  
> Steve: Be nice to her.  
> Bucky: *Is nice to her, when she's asleep*  
> Steve: *Banging his head against the wall* THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!
> 
>  
> 
> My computer broke so I had to write most of this on my phone... It was awful.


	7. Chapter 7

Your wake up call was the slamming of the door as Bucky left, presumably to go for his run with Steve and Sam. You practically fell out of bed in your haste to get ready, determined to get showered before he got back. You weren’t feeling very caring or charitable towards him so you took a box of cereal out of the cupboard and left it on the table with a bowl and the milk, hoping he was smart enough to figure it out.

 

You were blow-drying your hair when he came back so you didn’t hear him come in until he knocked on your bedroom door. You switched the blow-dryer off and mentally prepared yourself.

 

“What?” You called.

 

The door cracked open and a steaming mug came in, held up by a distinctive metal hand. You peered through the door at the man attached to the arm and he sighed and pushed the door open.

 

“What hmmph…” He silenced you as soon as you tried to talk by holding a finger up to your lips.

 

“You’re unbearable first thing in the morning so you’re not allowed to talk until you’ve had coffee.” He told you, removing his finger and tilting the cup to your lips.

 

You could either open your mouth or have him pour hot coffee on you so you opted for the former, drinking obediently but glaring at him over the rim of the cup.

 

“I’ve been called out on a mission, I leave in an hour.” He said flatly and you choked.

 

“Why? Where? For how long?” You spluttered and he looked taken aback by your automatic concern.

 

“Classified.”

 

“I have to proof read and file your mission reports… it’s not that classified. Tell me.” You insisted.

 

“You can read about it when I’m back then.” He retorted.

 

“Why won’t you tell me?” You asked, dangerously close to pouting.

 

“Because it’s none of your damn business.” He snapped.

 

“Right, because we’re not friends.” You snapped back.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You know what? Fuck you.” You raged, sick of his hurtful attitude.  

 

His eyes went impossibly dark and you gulped, realizing your mistake.

 

“Well that is your job.” He said lowly, backing you into the room and putting the coffee cup on the nearest flat surface.

 

His eyes roamed over you hungrily and despite all the hate, the nastiness and the hurt, your skin grew warm under his gaze. It was like his lust was some kind of mind altering drug because you didn’t even think about it before you untied the sash on your robe, letting it fall open. The look on his face was one of utter shock, like he hadn’t expected you to go along with it so happily. Shock melted into lust as his eyes wandered along the strip of skin your robe had fallen open to reveal and he reached out to trace his fingers over it, from your navel to your throat.

 

“Belle…”

 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” You whispered exasperatedly.

 

“It suits you.” He insisted.

 

“It means beauty.” You scoffed.

 

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

 

“It suits you.” He said again, decisively .

 

It wasn’t a compliment, it wasn’t said to woo you. It was a fact, like the sky being blue or water being wet. You were beautiful and to him that was an undeniable fact of life.

 

“Don’t forget who you belong to while I’m gone.” He warned, his hand tightening on your jaw.

 

“I won’t.” You vowed, as if you could ever forget it.

 

His touch became gentler and he tenderly slid his hand over your face, looking into your eyes with an unreadable expression. You realized with a start that he really did need assurance that you were his, that you wouldn’t forget it. You turned your face and pressed your lips to his palm, cupping  his hand with your own. His breath hitched and it was like a switch was flipped because the tender calm moment was broken and you were quickly on your back, pressed between the bed and his body while his hands explored your thighs, sliding under the robe.

 

He didn’t have long, both of you knew that so you weren’t surprised that his fingers sought out your folds straight away, diving beneath them but you both stilled in shock when you simultaneously realized that you were already wet.

 

No matter what state your mind was in, no matter how your brain felt about him, your body only had one setting where he was concerned. His presence ignited a primal sort of lust in you, an instinctive wanton desire. You couldn’t deny it, the evidence was right there. So what was the use in fighting it?

 

While he was still frozen with surprise you unabashedly pulled the robe from your skin and pushed it away, shamelessly exposing yourself. The deep groan he gave in appreciation made it worthwhile and not one to be outdone he quickly pulled his shirt over his head and flung it onto the floor, pulling you against him. Your fingers desperately fumbled with the buttons of his pants and he helped you slide them off, ridding himself of his boxers in the process.

 

“I don’t have long.” He stated, regretfully.

 

“So fuck me quickly.” You suggested, though it came out more like a plea.

 

He pushed you down with his body until you were lying flat on the bed and slid his hands under your thighs to pull them apart, his crotch slotting easily against yours until his cock slid flat against your slit. You moaned breathlessly and he huffed out a laugh that was equal parts surprised and pleased. His hips ground into you harshly, his hard length pushing between your folds until he was pressed against your clit, sliding over it and reducing you to a whimpering mess beneath him.

 

“Still adamant that you won’t cum for me?” He checked tauntingly.

 

You fought through the desire the try and think straight as you moved your hips in tandem with his. Your body definitely wanted to let go, to submit to him but the rest of you was still struggling with it. But you were going to be here, doing this for god knows how long. Even if you fought against it, you couldn’t fight forever. And if he would never be your friend, if he would never be kind… What was the harm in allowing yourself to feel the only thing close to happiness you could with him?

 

“I want to, please Bucky.” You whined.

 

His chest tightened at the words, the simple words that meant everything. You wanted him and everything he could give in this moment. You would never accept any sort of affection or intimacy form him outside of this so he would take what he could.

 

He rose to his knees and  grasped your thigh, pulling it up so your leg was hooked over his shoulder. Your other leg fell to the side, leaving you open for him and he accepted the invitation readily, wrapping his hand around his cock and pushing into you. You moaned loudly as inch by inch he slid into you until he was fully sheathed inside you, one hand holding your thigh tightly and the other tangled in the sheets next to your head. He was still, waiting for you to adjust or just enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him, you didn’t know but it wasn’t enough for you and you rotated your hips, begging him to move.

 

And move he did.

 

He was too big, too much to take. There was nowhere else for him to go, he couldn’t physically go any deeper but somehow he did and all your mind could grasp was the feeling of him filling you, brushing over every tender, sensitive spot inside of you. With every thrust he bottomed out, creating a thudding, spine arching, painful and deeply satisfying sensation every time. Your whole body was trembling, completely lost in the pleasure. It was like a thick fog descended upon your mind and you really couldn’t think, coherent thoughts were a pipe dream at this point.

 

“Please.” You begged, you didn’t even know what you were asking for.

 

His fingers tightened around your thigh and even the forming of inevitable bruises felt divine. Your hand wrapped around his forearm, your fingernails digging into his skin unconsciously. The very deepest parts inside you were being massaged by his cock as he pistoned into you, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours echoing in your ears and if he stopped, if he pulled out right now then you just knew you would die. He leaned forwards, pushing your leg back until your knee was against your chest and way his cock moved inside you had you screaming and thrashing underneath him. The position had him slamming into your cervix, thrusting over your g-spot and brushing against your clit at the same time and it was too much pleasure for one person to experience at once. It wasn’t until his lips brushed against your neck and you turned your head to the side, baring the flesh for him and his teeth grazed you that you snapped.

 

You came, _hard_.

 

Days’ worth of pent up sexual frustration exploded out of you, waves upon waves of intense pleasure washing over you relentlessly while your whole body tingled. Your spine arched and bowed so violently he had to let go of your leg and pin you down to the mattress while your cunt pulsated around his throbbing cock, the wetness gushing out of you. You screamed until you were hoarse, with no idea what you were actually screaming. Maybe it was just noise, maybe it was his name, could have been the alphabet for all you knew. You were no longer in control or aware of such things and all consuming, mind numbing pleasure was all you knew until it overwhelmed you and everything went black.

 

When you eventually came back around a few minutes later it was a gradual process. The first thing you noticed was the sensation of fingers brushing through your hair and soft lips pressed into your hairline. You were pressed against something warm that was hard and soft at the same time and you felt secure, safe and content. Under the smell of sex and sweat there was the familiar scent of something that had your pulse quickening, smoky and spicy with just a hint of sweetness. It was him. He was holding you, cradled against his chest.

 

Your eyes fluttered open and you lazily tilted your head up to look at him. His eyes were closed but he didn’t look peaceful, quite the opposite. The look on his face made you think of someone afraid to look at the executioners axe before it swung down on them.

 

“Bucky?” You whispered breathlessly.

 

He opened his eyes and for the briefest of seconds you saw so much pain in them that if felt like you’d just been stabbed in the heart. Then he shoved you off him and stood up, grabbing his clothes off the floor and walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

He gripped the doorframe tightly, the wood creaking under his fingers as he tried to reign in his emotions. For the briefest of moments, when your mind had been clouded by pleasure he had held you in his arms and it had been everything he never knew he desperately needed. It was why he wanted you, why that first night he had taken all the knowledge he had about you and used it to steal you away. The Winter Soldier was a twisted, broken monster, and all the things he had lived through had left their mark on him. He walked around every day, trying to be alright, trying to be Bucky but he was just a shell. An open wound that wouldn’t heal. And then you had knelt between his thighs and under your touch, the pain faded.

 

You weren’t a cure, there was no such thing as a cure but you were a balm. A soothing, sweet presence that chased away the misery and hurt for a spell and let him just be a man. But it wasn’t real and it wasn’t lasting, because even if you made him forget what he was for a while, it couldn’t actually change it.

 

So he’d held you as you came down from the pleasure he had given you, his chest swelling with pride and his head swimming with tranquillity but then you’d said his name and the spell broke.

 

But he’d have the memory of those few moments to hold in his mind while he was gone and for now, that was enough.

 

When he got onto the quinjet he discovered that memories weren’t quite all he had of you because even though he was cruel, harsh and unkind to you and even though he hadn’t asked you to do it, you’d packed his go bag for him. And amongst all the necessities, the change of clothes and the weapons there were things he didn’t need, things you must have added because you were just that kind. Kinder than he deserved.

 

“Why have you got so many chocolate bars?” Sam asked, looking over his shoulder.

 

“In case I get peckish, obviously.” Bucky said fondly, touched that you’d gone so overboard.

 

“What, while you’re reading?” Sam joked, pulling the well worn novel out of the bag.

 

It wasn’t his book, it wasn’t something he’d ever read so you must have put it in there for him. It was something he was suddenly desperate to read though, because judging by the bowed spine and the crinkled pages, it was a book you’d read often. He snatched the book out of Sam’s hands and glared at him until the Falcon held his hands up in mock surrender and sat back in his chair. Bucky turned away and resisted the urge to cradle the book close to his chest.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. He’d been gone for a few hours already but you still couldn’t get him out of your mind. He’d held you.

 

He’d held you in his arms.

 

And then he had pushed you away again.

 

He was sometimes so close to being gentle and kind and then he’d flip again and go back to being harsh and mean and you were starting to question it. You were starting to question everything.

 

Who the hell was Bucky Barnes and why was he like this? You knew he was a soldier form the 1940’s, that he’s been captured by Hydra and brainwashed until he broke free or was rescued by Captain America. The detail were a little unclear, it was mostly speculation. You knew that there had been a passive public outcry for him to be pardoned and a trial that ultimately led to him and the Captain being cleared of all charges, along with the rest of the Avengers who’d defied the accords ant that Sergeant Barnes had then joined the team of Superhero’s but that was all you knew. The finer, more intricate details weren’t exactly public knowledge.

 

No they were private, kept hidden. Classified.

 

You shakily typed a few things into the StarkPad until you found what you were looking for. The Winter Soldier’s personnel file.

 

This was wrong. It was a massive invasion of privacy. But he had known every single thing about you before you had even knocked on his door, what’s more he had used that knowledge to get you to work for him. So it was only fair if you took a little peek at his file, to see if you could try to understand him a little better. So before you could talk your self out of it, you opened the file.

 

FILE ACCESS DENIED.

 

Well that was to be expected really. Just because you worked for him, you wouldn’t have the clearance to access the file of an Avenger. Before you could close it, a chat window opened up on the screen.

 

 **IAmIronMan:** What are you doing?

 

 **SassyBelle** : Working.

 

 **SassyBelle:** Did you set my username??

 

 **IAmIronMan:** Obviously

 

 **IAmIronMan:** Did Sergeant Frozone ask for a copy of his file for some reason?

 

 **SassyBelle:** No…

 

 **IAmIronMan:** Then why are you trying to access it?

 

 **SassyBelle:** Look, I didn’t know it was off limits. I’m sorry, I’ll mind my own business from now on.

 

 **IAmIronMan:** Why are you looking for it?

 

 **SassyBelle:** Curiosity. I live with him, I work for him… I wanted to know who he was.

 

 **IAmIronMan:** Ok

 

That was it? Did that mean he wasn’t going to tell Bucky or could you expect the wrath of The Winter Soldier? The chat window closed and suddenly you were looking at the redacted file again for a moment before the words FILE ACCESS GRANTED flashed across the screen and the file loaded. You raised a brow at the unusual turn of events and glanced around nervously before you turned back to screen and started reading.

 

By the time the tears started falling, you really wished you hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky: We aren't friends.  
> Belle: Nope. I don't care about you at all.   
> Bucky: You packed 75 Snickers in my mission bag.  
> Belle: I just don't want your blood sugar to get low.   
> Bucky: And a book.   
> Belle: I didn't want you to get bored.  
> Bucky: ....  
> Steve: STOP PRETENDING YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER YOU LOVED UP MORONS.


	8. Chapter 8

“Why the hell would you show this to me?” You demanded, storming into the lab.

 

“You asked to see it.” Tony replied straight away.

 

“But I didn’t know what I was asking for, you did! You knew what was in there and you let me look anyway!”

 

“Listen kiddo… You wanted to know what kind of man he was, now you do.” He replied, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

 

“But…” You stammered.

 

“So you wanna run away screaming? I can help with that. You did more work on your first day than any of the other assistants have done in the last month, combined. There’s a place for you in Stark Industries if you want it.” Tony said seriously.

 

“What?” You asked, confused.

 

“I’ll even add your fathers medical bills in, though I’m a happily married man so I won’t be making the same deal that Barnes did.” He said and you stepped backwards with the force of the shock.

 

“You know what I am?” You asked.

 

“Uh, no. I know what professions you’ve dabbled in.” He said, shaking his head at you.

 

“How did you…”

 

“Once upon a time I hired a gorgeous redhead who later turned out to be a super spy, I’m a little more careful these days.” Tony scoffed.

 

“So you know, and you don’t…”

 

“Care. No.”

 

“Can I please finish a sentence?” You snapped.

 

“Go ahead.” He said, smirking.

 

“Are you offering me a job, to get me away from Bucky?” You clarified.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Go to hell.” You snarled, furious beyond belief.

 

“You read the file and you’re still willing to climb into bed with him? Physically and metaphorically?” He asked derisively.

 

“Yes.” You said emphatically, more sure than ever.

 

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He shrugged.

 

“Why would you… HOW could you?” You demanded.

 

He sighed and turned his back on you, fiddling with something you couldn’t see.

 

“Have you ever made a mistake?” He asked quietly.

 

“Plenty. I stopped keeping a count after Prom Night.” You said and he snorted at that.

 

“I tried to kill him, I wanted to kill him. I look at him and I hate him but you know what? That’s on me, not him. I hate him for things he wasn’t in control of and I can’t help it so the least I can do is make sure if you’re gonna cut and run and hurt him, you do it now, before he gets any more attached.” Tony told you without looking at you.

 

“He’s not attached to me.” You insisted.

 

“You know why you’re the only **personal** assistant? Because frosty the snowman doesn’t trust anybody, he won’t even talk to them. He’s a paranoid mess and yet he moved you into his suite, a room away from where he sleeps. He’s attached, he trusts you.” Tony explained.

 

“And you wanted to make sure I wouldn’t betray that trust.” You realized, feeling bad for shouting.

 

“How far into that file did you get?” He asked.

 

“Not far. He had to live it and I couldn’t even muster the courage to read it.” You said sadly.

 

“Me either. Never made it all the way through. That’s why I’m allowing * **this** *” He said, gesturing at you.

 

“So you don’t approve?”

 

“Of your career moves? I don’t judge. Of Barnes hiring you? I didn’t think it was wise, but… you told me to go to hell rather than betray him. I think there’s something here that just works.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Miss Belle? I’m sorry to wake you but you asked me to inform you when Sergeant Barnes returned.” Friday’s voice said, piercing through your dream and waking you up.

 

“He’s back?” You asked, sitting up.

 

“The Quinjet is about to land.” She confirmed.

 

“Thank you!” You exclaimed, falling out of bed and picking yourself up off the floor to sprint out of the room/

 

You ran all the way down to the landing pad, realizing half-way there that you were in your pyjama’s but not caring. You arrived just as the Quinjet touched down and you hopped from foot to foot anxiously as the ramp descended. Sam Wilson was the first one of and as soon as he saw you he rushed over.

 

“You can’t be here. You need to get back inside.” He insisted.

 

“Why? Where’s Bucky? He’s not… is he ok?”

 

“He’s not hurt. But he’s… you can see him tomorrow.” Sam said, trying to gently push you back towards the building.

 

At that moment you saw Bucky and you stopped breathing. He was covered in blood and walking stiffly down the ramp. You slipped under Sam’s arm and ran towards him, your bare feet slapping against the ramp as you approached. He looked up and looked straight through you with the coldest expression you’d ever seen.

 

“Bucky.” You whispered, coming to a halt in front of him.

 

He blinked at the sound of your voice and his eyes changed. They went from cold to pained and he took a step towards you, almost reaching out for you. Neither of you paid any attention to Steve or Sam who had come to stand beside you both.

 

“You’re bleeding.” You told him, looking him over worriedly.

 

“It’s not my blood.” He said quickly.

 

“It’s not my blood.” He repeated, realizing the implications and turning away from you.

 

“Come with me.” You whispered, holding your and out to him.

 

He took your hand quickly, without thinking about it. Sam and Steve watched silently, concerned and surprised.  It was only when your much smaller hand was encased in his that he seemed to realize what he’d done and frowned as you tugged him away. He followed after you like a lost, confused child as you led him back to his room and into the bathroom.

 

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, eyes desperately searching your for an answer.

 

“Because I want to.” You said honestly and your words seemed to unlock something in him because he shook, almost violently.

 

You tugged your hand away from his and he let it go, looking hurt. But when you started unzipping and unbuckling all the various parts of his suit he sighed in relief that you weren’t walking away as you pulled the blood soaked material from his body. It was a messy, sticky affair and some parts of the suit had stick to his skin so you had to maintain a carefully neutral expression while you peeled it off.

 

“You don’t have to do this.” He spoke into the silence, making you jump slightly.

 

You looked up at him and were taken aback by the vulnerability in his eyes.

 

“I know I don’t.” You said, and continued.

 

When you unlaced his boots and pulled them off, he was left in his underwear and you could see the bruises and scrapes marring his body. There was an especially large, painful looking bruise blossoming across his ribs and you gently placed your palm against it. His skin was burning hot to the touch but there was no swelling or give that indicated a cracked or broken rib thankfully. Your hands toyed with the waistband of his boxers and you were suddenly uncomfortable.

 

You’d seen him naked before and this situation was the furthest thing from sexual but it was more intimate than anything you’d done with him before. This man, this version of Bucky was a raw, hurt and scarily vulnerable one. You chanced a quick glance at his face but he wasn’t looking at you, he was staring blankly into space. You finished undressing him and pulled him into the shower, standing on the edge and turning the hot water one as hot as you thought he could stand.

 

He flinched when the spray first hit his skin, curling in on himself and you ran your hands over his back, soothing him. Steam filled the room and he quickly huddled under the hot water. You stepped away for a moment and his head snapped round to watch you with a pleading expression that faded when he saw you were only gathering washcloths and towels. You diligently and carefully started scrubbing him down, being as gentle as possible while you removed every trace of blood from his skin. You saw him watching the pink water swirl down the drain with a haunted expression and you heart broke a little.

 

When his body was as clean as it could be you gathered up the blood soaked clothes in your arms and turned away to dump them in the sink. A loud thud had you spinning round in worry and you found him on his knee’s kneeling in front of you. Before you could ask him what was wrong he wrapped both arms around your waist, pushing his face into your stomach. You stilled as his wet skin soaked through your pyjamas and he held onto you tightly, like he was afraid you were going to leave. He was trembling until you threaded your fingers through his damp hair, gently running your nail over his scalp and gradually the trembling subsided.

 

Since you were already soaked, you angled the shower head so it was hitting you both and made low soothing noises in the back of your throat for him while you blindly reached for a bottle of shampoo. You lathered up his hair, massaging his scalp and then rinsing it and not once did he release his iron grip on you. You switched the water off and he squeezed you tighter, pushing his face into your abdomen to the point where you were almost wincing in pain.

 

“Bucky… I need to look at your cuts and scrapes. Come on.” You whispered softly, pulling his arms away from your waist.

 

He released you limply and let you pull him to his feet. You wrapped a towel around his waist and led him out of the shower. That was when you faltered. You weren’t allowed in his room so you led him to yours instead, the two of you dripping water all the way. You pushed him down onto the chair at the vanity table and he sat down easily. An errant morbid thought in your brain noted how compliant he was being and wondered if you could encourage him to do the macarena or something but you chastised it and shoved it out.

 

You left him there, promising you would return right away and when you came hurrying back with a pile of towels and a first aid kit he was watching the door with a frantic, nervous look until he saw you. As soon as you were close enough he reached for you and you stepped between his thighs and pulled him close, letting him lean his head on your shoulder while you towel dried his hair. His arms returned to their newly found home around your waist and he clung to you while you worked. It was difficult to move but not impossible and when you leaned over to grab your hairbrush he instinctively moved with you. When you ran the brush through his hair he made a low noise in the back of throat.

 

You froze, worried you’d done something wrong but he nuzzled into you shoulder and your lips twitched as you realized he _liked_ it. You carefully ran the brush through his hair, working out the tangles and spending far longer brushing his hair than any human needed. By the time you were done, his hair was almost dry. You smoothed your hands over his head and gently kissed it while you wriggled out of his hold and grabbed the first aid kit before he could latch onto you again. He settled for watching you intently as you ripped open an anti=septic wipe and ran it over the tiny scrapes on the knuckles of his flesh hand.

 

You ended up with a small pile of used wipes as you carefully inspected every inch of him, cleaning up every little scrape and cut and tenderly probing every bruise to check there wasn’t a worse injury beneath them. When you got to his face and started wiping the small gash on his eyebrow he put his hands on your hips before he jerked slightly and looked at you with a guilty expression.

 

“Please?” He whispered.

 

He was asking for permission you realised. You had moved away from his hold and he wanted permission to do it again. You flung the wipe aside and cradled his cheek in your hand and he turned his head slightly to nuzzle into your hand, his eyes fluttering shut. With your other hand you reached down to pull his arms around you and a tension you hadn’t noticed he’s been holding in his shoulder loosened.

 

“You need to eat something.” You told him softly.

 

“Ok.” He said right away.

 

“Can you go and put clothes on? I’ll be in the kitchen” You asked and he looked reluctant.

 

“I’d get them but I can’t and I don’t think anything of mine will fit you.” You joked weakly.

 

He smiled lightly, it didn’t quite reach his eyes but he’d tried and he nodded and padded away quickly. You ripped your ruined pyjama’s off as fast as you could and grabbed your robe off the back of the door, tying it around your waist and scampering for the kitchen. You’d just put the kettle on when you felt, rather than heard him step behind you.

 

“What do you want to eat?” You asked, turning to face him.

 

“Nothing.” He answered, lacing his fingers with yours.

 

“You should probably try to eat something.” You encouraged.

 

“Ok.”

 

“You don’t want to eat do you?” You asked and he shook his head.

 

“But you will anyway if I ask you to?” You checked and he nodded.

 

You sighed and stepped into his body, wrapping your arms around him. He responded straight away, curling as much of his body around you as he could.

 

“How about some tea?” You suggested, turning around in his arms so you were still enclosed but able to use your hands to pour the tea.

 

He moved with you easily and after a brief adjustment you discovered that having a six foot tall, muscly backpack wasn’t actually that difficult when said backpack had great instincts and knew where you were going to move before you did.

 

“Here.” You said, holding up a cup until he reluctantly unhooked his metal arm from around your waist and took it from you.

 

“Thank you.” He said and it held a lot of weight, a lot of gratitude for just a cup of tea.

 

“It wasn’t a problem.” You said back and you weren’t talking about the tea either.

 

“Do you want to go to bed?” You asked him and he faltered.

 

“You can sleep in my room.” You offered quickly, not wanting him to think you were pushing him away.

 

Something dark and unreadable passed over his face and before you could say or do anything the cup shattered in his hand. You yelped as hot water sprayed across you and he recoiled in horror.

 

“It’s ok, it’s just a cup.” You assured, trying to hide to pain.

 

You reached out for him and he backed away from you, his eyes wide.

 

“Don’t.” He snarled and you snatched your hand back.

 

“Bucky?”

 

“You’re my assistant, just because I let you _assist_ me you think it means something? You think I want to sleep in your bed, with you?” He spat viciously.

 

“Apparently not.” You sighed.

 

“Clean this up. The place is a mess.” He barked and you nodded dutifully.

 

“Ok, I’ll get right on it. Do you want another cup………… of tea?” You trailed off as he scoffed and turned on his heel in the middle of your question, storming to his room and slamming the door behind him so hard that the whole wall shook.

 

You blinked back tears as you tried to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Whatever you’d done, you couldn’t do it again. You didn’t understand why he’d imprinted on you, like some kind of super soldier baby duckling. You didn’t know why he’d picked you, of all people to trust but you supposed you didn’t need to know. You were out of your depth, unsure how to handle this situation.

 

One thing was for sure though, you were going to damn well try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that meme of a dog with a ball and it's like 'no take, only throw'? That's Bucky.... 
> 
> No touch, only hug.


	9. Chapter 9

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

Six words, repeating over and over in his mind. Haunting him, taunting him.

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

You’d held him, comforted him, cared for him and you would have kept doing it.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

He’d come back from the mission, wracked with self-loathing, cold and broken and you had unflinchingly warmed him until he could breath again without it hurting.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

Your hands had washed away the blood of the people he had killed from his skin and your lack of judgement had washed away his sins.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

There was no fear, no hatred, no disgust in your eyes. Just concern. Concern for him.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

He wanted it, he wanted to let you pull him under the sheets and mould your body to his.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

He looked around his room, at the furniture that had been repaired time and time again, the plastered over holes in the walls, the easily replaceable pillows and sheets.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

When he slept, his mind replayed all the horrors of his past and his body struck out. His enhanced strength would destroy everything in reach.

 

_“You can sleep in my room.”_

 

But he couldn’t. He could never lay beside you and let his mind and body rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never did end up getting back to sleep after you cleared the broken china and blood soaked rags from Bucky’s suite and as the clock ticked down to 7am you showered and dressed before Bucky could get up and leave his room. You didn’t even stick around to make coffee, choosing to brave the communal kitchen instead.

 

“Morning Miss Belle!”

 

“Morning. Why are you so chipper? Who’s this chipper at 7am?” You asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the smiling face of Peter Parker.

 

“Mr Stark signed me out of school for the day so I could help him with… a project.” Peter told you.

 

“That sounds like fun.” You yawned, leaning over the look at the fancy coffee machine, hoping to figure it out.

 

“Hey Miss Belle?”

 

“You really don’t have to call me Miss.” You assured him, prodding at a button.

 

“Belle, wanna see something really cool?” Peter asked excitedly.

 

“Is it how to work the coffee machine?” You asked hopefully.

 

“Better!”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the window, practically pressing his face against the glass. It took your eyes a few moments to adjust but when they did you leaned forwards with him, just as fascinated.

 

“It’s snowing!”

 

“Hey, parker?”

 

“Yeah Belle?”

 

“You had breakfast yet?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Half an Hour Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What’s going on here?” Tony asked in befuddlement, peering over the veritable mountain of cinnamon rolls.

 

“We’re baking!” Peter shouted, popping up from behind the counter.

 

“Yeah, no, I can see that.” Tony said, biting into a cinnamon roll and making a noise of surprise.

 

“This is really good.” He announced, squinting suspiciously at the young boy.

 

“I found the brown sugar and the extra flour, how are the croissants coming?” You asked, walking into the room with a mixing bowl in your hands, a bag of sugar tucked under your arm and a bag of flour balanced precariously on your head.

 

“Are we opening a bakery?” Tony asked, plucking the flour of you and shaking his head.

 

“It’s the first day of snow, I thought I’d bake.” You said, shrugging.

 

“The croissants are brown?” Peter said.

 

“Then they’re ready. Here.” You said, passing him the bowl of batter and grabbing a teatowel to take the tray out of the oven.

 

“What’s going on here?” Sam asked, wandering in with his nose in the air as he sniffed.

 

“Breakfast!” Peter announced.

 

“We’re having pastries for breakfast?” Sam asked.

 

You grabbed a bowl and ladled him a bowl from the massive pot on the counter and handed it to him with a kind smile.

 

“Porridge?” You offered.

 

He took the bowl from you with a frown that lasted all of three seconds before he gave you a wide grin.

 

“You’re too good for the likes of Barnes, you should come work for me.” He said and sitting at the table.

 

“You’re sweet.” You laughed.

 

“Speaking of sweet, these are the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted.” Tony called out, grabbing another.

 

“My mothers recipe, she was a baker.” You told him.

 

“Secret recipe or will you share? I’ll buy it from you.” Tony offered.

 

“No deal, but I will make them for you whenever you want?” You counter offered.

 

“Done.”

 

“What the hell?”

 

The fun friendly atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly turned very frosty as Bucky walked in with Steve by his side. The Brunette super soldier was glaring at anything and everything he could while the blonde was smiling at the scene they’d walked in on.

 

Unbeknown to you, Steve was relived to see you acting so happy. He’d been worried that because of Bucky’s foul mood, something had gone wrong last night.

 

“Porridge?” You offered them with a warm smile.

 

“No.” Bucky snapped.

 

“Yes, please. For both of us.” Steve corrected, dragging Bucky to the table.

 

You took two bowls over and put them down in front of the two men.

 

“Thank you Belle.” Steve said politely and you heard a thump under the table as he kicked Bucky on the shin.

 

“Thanks.” Bucky grumbled.

 

“Belle, sit down and eat. There’s nothing in the oven.” Peter insisted, pushing you towards a seat.

 

You obliged and sat down, watching Steve whisper frustratedly to Bucky. Bucky met your eye and quickly looked away.

 

“Just eat it Bucky!” Steve hissed.

 

Bucky sneered and picked up the bowl and slurped from it loudly. Steve sighed and you could see him physically resist the urge to slam his head down on the table in frustration. Peter animatedly put a bowl down in front of you and with a smirk you picked it up and brought it to your mouth, forgoing the spoon. Steve, Sam and Bucky all looked at you in surprise. You ignored them and slurped your porridge daintily.

 

Almost against his will, Bucky smiled. It was a small, barely there smile but you saw it. You smiled back at him and for a few moments the two of you lost yourself in the shared smile and twinkling of each other eyes. In that moment, you both seemed to forget there was anyone else in the room.

 

Tony smirked happily and conspiratorially at the scene, Peter looked between you and Bucky in amusement, Steve looked perplexed before a hopeful glint appeared in his eyes and Sam just looked baffled. The four of them looked at each other and seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bucky paced back and forth in front of your office door for at least twenty minutes before he gathered the courage to go in. His hand hovered over the handle before he seemed to think better of it and knocked.

 

“Come in.”

 

He swung the door open and you looked up from the scattered pile of papers on your desk. He noted that you looked ill and glanced down at the papers. The mission reports from yesterday.

 

“Are you ok?” You asked him.

 

“Fine.” He said gruffly.

 

“You don’t look it. You look tired. Have you even slept?”

 

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped.

 

“Well, yes it is. It’s my job to look after you and if you pass out from exhaustion then I’m a failure.” You joked softly.

 

“That’s not my problem.”

 

“Bucky, just try and rest. Please?” You pleaded, standing up and walking over to him until you were standing in front of him and gazing up at him in concern.

 

“Ok.” He agreed and made a face of surprise, like he hadn’t meant to agree to it.

 

He seemed to be having some kind of internal struggle with himself and you waited patiently for him to figure it out.

 

“Why are you so nice to me?” He demanded desperately.

 

He studied your face frantically, like the answer was more important to him than you realized. You slowly brought your hand up to brush a lock of hair off his face and he held himself absolutely still.

 

“Because I want to be.” You said simply.

 

His chest heaved almost painfully and he looked so torn, so conflicted.

 

“You shouldn’t be, you need to stop. I don’t want your pity or kindness. I just want you to do your job.” He said and his words were harsh and cruel but his voice was soft and unsure.

 

You just smiled at him.

 

“Are you an idiot? I don’t care about you, I don’t want you to be my friend. You’re nothing to me, nothing. Do you understand that?” he snarled.

 

“You can be as cruel as you want, you can shout and rage at me and be a bastard but your attitude doesn’t get to change who I am. You don’t have that kind of power over me Bucky.” You told him firmly.  

 

All the anger drained out of him and he slumped down, emotionally drained.

 

“Go and get some sleep.” You instructed, turning away.

 

“Fine. But only because I’m tired, not because you told me to so it.” He snapped petulantly.

 

“Of course not.” You agreed, smirking when he stormed out.

 

You sat down at your desk and started reading the graphic reports of violence again, correcting any mistakes. The more you read the worse you felt but even through the awful descriptions of the acts of violence that Bucky had committed it was glaringly obvious to you that every move he made, every life he took was carefully calculated. Threats to him were taken care of only after threats to the Captain and the Falcon were dealt with.

 

You sent a message to the triplets asking for Steve and Sam’s reports so you could check for discrepancies and you told the women that you would file those as well. It was more work for you but it made more sense for you to file all the mission reports for everyone who was with Bucky in the future and you sent a message to Tony explaining exactly that.

 

When you finished messaging Tony you put your tablet down on the table, accidentally knocking your pen onto the floor where it rolled under your desk and you sighed and knelt down to retrieve it. You blindly fumbled under the desk for the pen when your fingers brushed over a piece of card. Frowning you pulled it out.

 

It was a white envelope with your name on it and you opened it curiously.

 

There were scribbled out lines, attempts at writing.

_~~I thought some flowers would brighten the office.~~ _

_~~They’re not romantic ones. This isn’t romantic. Don’t read into this.~~ _

_~~But I thought maybe, if you wanted, if you liked, that I could be your friend.~~ _

_~~I want to be your friend.~~ _

_~~Please. ??~~ _

_~~I just wanted to give you flowers. I wanted to do something nice for you.~~ _

And underneath them, written in painstakingly neat writing.

 

_I didn’t want you to be the only beautiful thing in that office._

_The flowers aren’t as beautiful as you are, I don’t think anything is._

_I’m sorry I’ve been such a beast to you and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I was hoping you would have dinner with me tonight?_

_Yours, James Buchannan Barnes X_  

 

Your eyes stung as you realized that the flowers had never been from Ben, they had been from Bucky. He had reached out, shown vulnerability and kindness and you had rejected him without ever knowing it. You clutched the card in your hand and scrambled to your feet, running through the compound. You burst into Bucky’s suite and came to a stop in front of his bedroom door.

 

Horror clutched at your heart as you heard his pained yells from within the room and disregarding his rule, his one command that you never ever go inside, no matter what… You pushed the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No quirky meme for this chapter, I'm busy getting the fan ready. Because shit is about to hit it!!!


	10. Chapter 10

It was a mistake, you knew it was. Whatever was waiting on the other side of that door was not something you could handle, whatever was hurting the super soldier was not a threat you could eliminate. But deep down, you knew there wasn’t an enemy in there, he wasn’t being attacked. It was why you didn’t alert Friday, why you didn’t call for help. The door creaked open and you saw exactly what you’d been afraid of.

 

Bucky was sprawled on top of the sheets of his bed, thrashing. Hoarse screams ripped from his throat and the sheer pain and terror in them weren’t just breaking your heart, they were pulverizing it. You needed to help him, you needed to make him stop making that terrible sound. All you wanted in that moment was to help him.

 

You didn’t think about it.

 

You should have thought about it.

 

“Bucky…” You whispered his name into the dark room, your whisper being consumed by his harrowing cry’s.

 

You found yourself next to him, your view of him blurred by your tear filled vision.

 

“Bucky, it’s ok.” You promised, cupping his cheek in your hand and pushing his damp hair from his sweat soaked brow.

 

He stilled under your touch and the screams died down to a whimper. You breathed a sigh of relief that was quickly extinguished when his metal hand closed around your throat and squeezed. His eyes snapped open and he stood up, his grip on you never faltering. Your feet dangled off the ground as he lifted you by the throat and you thrashed as your body fought to breathe. You couldn’t even gasp or croak his name or a plea for mercy. He looked at you coldly, without a flicker of recognition then as suddenly as he had grabbed you, he released you.

 

You dropped to the ground, your legs unable to support you as you choked in a lungful of oxygen, gasping and coughing as your damaged throat tried to allow the air in.

 

“Oh my god.” He whispered and threw himself backwards, away from you.

 

You looked up, holding your throat as you tried to breath properly.

 

You had never seen such a broken look on somebody’s face before. He looked utterly destroyed by what had just transpired, wrecked by the fact that he had almost just killed you.

 

You coughed violently, curled in on yourself and your cheeks were wet with tears. Your neck felt like it was on fire, the skin felt raw. Minutes passed, while you knelt on the ground and choked and he stood in frozen horror and watched you. When you could finally breath without coughing, though it still felt like you were inhaling gravel, you looked up at him again.

 

His eyes were dark and haunted, his face twisted in shame and fear, his whole body trembling so much it almost looked like he was vibrating.

 

“I didn’t know it was you.” He said pleadingly.

 

“I know.” You croaked.

 

“I didn’t mean to.”

 

“I know.” You said again.

 

“You shouldn’t have been here. You weren’t supposed to be in here.”

 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

 

That was the worst thing you could have said as far as he was concerned. He could see the worry in your eyes, worry for him and not yourself. It killed him, knowing that you would forgive him for this. Knowing that you had put yourself in harms way because you just couldn’t fucking listen.

 

“YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE!”

 

You flinched at the sudden volume and sob tore itself painfully from your throat.

 

“Get out. Get the fuck out.” He snarled.

 

You shakily stood up and looked at him.

 

“I’ll go and…”

 

“LEAVE!” He roared, losing any semblance of composure.

 

His fragile grasp on his self control slipped away and he grabbed the edge of the bedframe with his metal hand, flinging at clear across the room, mattress and frame. It crashed into the wall and splintered. He advanced on you and you instinctively backed up, until your back hit the doorframe. You saw a flicker of panic and desperation in his eyes and when he reached for you it almost seemed like he was going to pull you towards him but his shoulders shook violently and he pushed you away, out of the door. For a man who’d just demolished a bedframe with a flick of his wrist, the shove was gentle. His voice was not.

 

“Get the fuck out. GO!” He screamed and slammed the door in your face.

 

You ran.

 

You ran out of the room.

 

You ran down the corridor.

 

You ran down the stairs.

 

You just ran.

 

You didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t have a plan. You just ran. You didn’t see the concerned Peter Parker look up just in time to see you sprint past, didn’t hear him call after you with a frown. You didn’t see the curious gazes of staff as you rushed past them. You focused on running, it was the only thought you could concentrate on.

 

 

Bucky sank to his knees as a broken sob burst from him and he landed on all fours, his body refusing to hold him up. His vision swam and he blearily focused his gaze on the white card lying on the ground in front of him. He knew what it was, he recognized it. You must have dropped it when he… when _it_ happened. You had kept the card, but not the flowers.

 

Slowly, his mind mulled that strange fact over, relishing in something other than the look on your face when he’d been choking the life out of you to focus on. Piece by piece, he figured it out.

 

You’d been cornered in your office by that slimeball Ben, seconds before you’d swept the flowers into the bin. You hadn’t known they were from him, _you hadn’t seen the fucking card._ You hadn’t rejected him, you hadn’t even known there was anything to reject.

 

Every interaction he’d had with you since then was looked back on in a different light. When he’d told you that he didn’t want your friendship, you hadn’t seen it as his embarrassed defence. You’d seen it as cruel. And you had still pushed kindness onto him. He had never deserved it and he had always known it but he hadn’t realized just how much he didn’t deserve it.

 

And when you had found the card, you had taken it here, to him. And he had nearly killed you, pushed you away again and hurt you. You were the softest thing he had ever touched, the kindest soul he had ever known and he had ruined it. The solace he found in you turned to ash in his mouth as the ramifications of what had just happened sunk in.

 

You hadn’t rejected him.

 

He had rejected you.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

You somehow made your way to the garage, to your old beat up truck. You slammed into the door, not having the foresight to slow down as you approached.

 

“Belle, wait!”

 

“No.” You sobbed, pulling the door open and getting in the car.

 

“Belle, stop. What’s wrong?” Someone’s hand shot out and stopped you from closing the door.

 

You automatically looked up and found Steve rogers gazing at you with intense concern, Peter Parker hovering behind him.

 

“Oh my god.” Peter gasped.

 

When you had looked up, your neck became clearly visible. Something frighteningly dark passed over Steve’s face and he stepped back from you. You frowned, confused until you saw where his eyes were focused. There must be a mark on your neck, a sign of what had happened.

 

“Who did this?” Steve, no, Captain America asked.

 

“It wasn’t his fault.” You whispered.

 

The Captain looked suspicious for a moment before shock graced his features and he realised whos handprint was splayed across your throat.

 

“Steve, he was asleep. I went in, even though he told me to never, ever go in.” You wept.

 

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok.” Steve promised, placing a tentative hand on the car door.

 

“Let me go, I have to go.” You begged.

 

“I don’t think that’s wise. You’re hurt Belle, let us take you to the medbay.” He said gently.

 

“No! I have to leave, I should have never come here, I just made it all worse. Why would I ever think I could help him? Who the hell am I to help anyone? I broke the rules, I broke the deal. It was never supposed to be like this, I was supposed to just fuck him and file his paperwork, I wasn’t supposed to care about him.” You babbled, your voice strained with pain and emotion.

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“I wasn’t supposed to care.” You repeated.

 

“Uh, Mr Rogers?” Peter said nervously.

 

“Belle?” Steve pushed.

 

“Let me go.” You begged.

 

“How did you meet Bucky?” Steve asked firmly and you looked up in surprise.

 

“You don’t know? I thought…” You whispered.

 

“Peter, get her to the medbay.” Steve instructed, walking away stiffly.

 

“Belle, can I help you? Please?” Peter asked softly, reaching out and stopping just short of touching you.

 

“I don’t want to go out there just yet. Please don’t make me.” You begged.

 

“Ok, that’s ok. We can sit here for a minute.” He said.

 

“My throat, I need water. Can you?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll get some. Hang on.” Peter said quickly, running off.

 

As soon as he was gone you slammed the car door closed and when he heard it he realized you’d tricked him. By the time he turned around you’d already fished the keys out of the glove compartment and with one last apologetic glance in his direction you sped away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Steve’s anger melted away when he entered the room and saw Bucky knelt on the floor, silent tears shining in his eyes.

 

“Buck.”

 

“I hurt her.” Bucky said forlornly.

 

“She said you didn’t mean to.” Steve assured him.

 

“She’s gone isn’t she?”

 

“Bucky… she should never have been here in the first place. I know you’re desperate to feel something, to connect. I know about the apartment in Brooklyn, what you do when you go there. I’m not naive. I’m not judging you, or her, but bringing her here was a mistake. You can’t pay someone to care about you.” Steve said, sighing heavily.

 

“Don’t. Don’t talk about her like that.” Bucky snarled.

 

“I’m not. I like Belle, she’s a wonderful person. She works hard and fits in well here and I think Tony would keep her on but Bucky, you need something real. You can’t force it or pay for it.” Steve reasoned.

 

“It wasn’t like that, not really. I didn’t ask her to care, I asked her not too. I told her not to care but she did, she tried so hard to care. And I pushed her away.” Bucky said brokenly.

 

“Bucky…”

 

“She was doing it for her father. He’s sick, he’s _dying_. And she didn’t want to do it but she did anyway because she loves him. You don’t understand Steve, I _need_ her. She’s so bright and kind, even in the middle of something dark and painful. She doesn’t make it better, nothing can make it better but she makes me want to try to make it better. She makes me want to be alive, not just to live.”

 

“You care about her.” Steve said, understanding that Bucky’s feelings went far deeper than that.

 

“I _need_ her. And now she’s gone.”

 

“She’s…”

 

“Hey Cap, I tried to stop her but she drove away, I’m so sorry, she asked for water and when I went to get it she drove off.” Peter said hurriedly through the closed door.

 

Steve saw the kids words physically break Bucky’s heart.

 

“Go after her Buck, it’s not too late.” Steve told him, offering a hand to help him up.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You can. You want to be better, be alive? Then go and get her, and do better. Things have to change, but we can make it work. **_This_** will never happen again, we won’t let it.” Steve said confidently.

 

“She won’t come back.” Bucky whispered.

 

“She will, she cares about you. She’s a wreck. So stand up and go after her. At least try.”

 

Bucky took a deep breath and brushed his thumb across the card still clenched in his fist.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When the car swerved out of control, you thought it was a patch of black ice. The snow had been falling all day, blanketing the world in white. It was still coming down now, adding a false sense of peacefulness to the situation. When you skidded to a stop, you looked back at the road and saw the row of spikes that you had driven across and knew it wasn’t ice that had derailed your car.

 

“Get out of the car.” Someone yelled and a row of dark suited men melted out of the treeline, guns raised in your direction.

 

Unfortunately, your car wasn’t bulletproof and neither were you so you had no choice but to do as they said. Heart hammering in your chest, you opened the door and got out.

 

“Grab her.” One of them instructed.

 

You put your hands up meekly and bowed your head in submission, your breath fanning in front of you as your panicked pants crystallized in the frigid air. When one of them stepped forwards to ‘grab you’, you made your move. Faster than you had ever moved in your life you threw yourself towards the opposite side of the road and sprinted for the trees. A bullet hit the ground by your feet and it spurred you on, making you push your body harder than you ever had in your life and you burst into the woods, into the cover of the trees.

 

You didn’t know who they were, or why they wanted you (though you could guess), it didn’t matter. People with guns pointed at you were unlikely to have good intentions and if they wanted to take you, they’d have to work for it. You weren’t going to just hand yourself over, even if it meant getting hurt in the process. You heard them chasing you, could hear the crunch of their boots in the snow  but you didn’t look back, didn’t slow down.

 

A bullet whizzed by your head, dangerously close and a hazy, half forgotten piece of advice you’d read online once or heard in a movie echoed in your brain.

 

Zig Zag.

 

You changed course, periodically moving from side to side and not running in a straight line. It almost worked, it was almost enough.

 

Until you ran out of forest. You skidded to a halt at the edge of the moonlit lake you hadn’t know you’d been running towards.

 

You jerked in fear at the loud bang of the gunshot right behind you and turned around the see three of the men advancing on you.

 

“What do you want?” You demanded, sounding braver than you felt.

 

“The Avengers took something that belongs to us and you’re going to help us get it back.” One of the told you smugly.

 

“Hydra.” You sighed.

 

You knew who they were now, knew what they wanted.

 

“He won’t come for me.” You told them resolutely.

 

“Yes he will.” Someone snarled an and there were three simultaneous gunshots, the three agents dropping in rapid succession.

 

“Bucky?” You gasped as he stepped into sight, his gun held steadily in his hand.

 

The moonlight reflected off his metal arm and you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he strode towards you.

 

“We have to move. There are more.” He barked, just as the rest of the agents arrived on the scene.

 

Without hesitating he stood in front of you, shielding you and firing his gun with deadly accuracy at the same time. But there were more of them and you heard his grunt of pain as a bullet hit him. He stumbled back slightly as one of the agents came barrelling towards him, a knife poised and ready.

 

You had seen footage of The Winter Soldier in action before but nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Bucky moved with a fluid, well-practiced grace that would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the danger he was in. You were so concerned with him, you didn’t notice the danger _you_ were in until someone yanked you backwards by the hair and raised a knife towards your throat.

 

You pained gasp drew Bucky’s attention and he immediately fired a bullet into the temple of the agent holding you, probably saving your life. But it gave his enemy a split second advantage and Bucky only narrowly avoided being stabbed in the chest.

 

Your attackers grip on your hair had dragged you to the ground when his lifeless body fell and you pushed yourself away from the corpse quickly, spotting something on his belt and you didn’t hesitate to grab it. You had never held a gun before, it was heavier than you thought it would be but that didn’t slow you down and you turned around and aimed it. Bucky dodged and weaved, throwing well placed hits as he fended off the enemy and he could probably do this without your help. You didn’t need to pull the trigger. You didn’t need to shoot someone.

 

But you weren’t going to take the risk.

 

A gunshot was louder when you when you were the one holding the gun. The bullet you fired hit the final agent, tearing through his skull and sending his body crashing to the ground. Bucky looked at you, shock written all over his face.

 

“Good shot.” He breathed out, wonderment and concern in his tone.

 

“I was aiming for his leg.” You whispered.

 

Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was shock, maybe it really was just that funny but Bucky let out a surprised huff of laughter at your confession. You tried to stand up and he made a stride towards you before he stumbled and groaned, clutching his side.

 

“Bucky?”

 

“I’m ok.” He assured you but it was clearly a lie because he fell on the next step, falling onto the snow.

 

You rushed towards him, half crawling and threw yourself onto the ground next to him, your hands frantically searching out the bullet wound he’d gotten protecting you. You found it on his shoulder, inched away from the metal. You desperately tried to stem the bleeding, pushing down on it.

 

“I don’t, I don’t have my phone. Where’s your phone?” You demanded.

 

“Compound.” He said softly.

 

“Ok, ok. Car, did you drive? Maybe we can find their car. They must have had a vehicle. It wouldn’t have been on the road, so must be in the woods. Can you walk if I help you?” You asked him, forcing yourself to remain calm.

 

“Belle.” He whispered, reaching up to stroke the bruised flesh of your throat with regret and shame in his eyes.

 

“Bucky, can you walk?” You pushed.

 

“I can walk.”

 

You nodded and stood up, exerting your strength to pull him up and hoisting his flesh arm over your shoulder.

 

“I have a car. It’s with yours. I saw yours on the road.” He said quietly and you exhaled in relief.

 

He put a surprisingly small amount of his weight on you as you helped him through the trees. You hadn’t realized how far you had ran, it must have been a good mile and with every step you felt worse and worse. This was all your fault, if you had just listened to him and not gone in that room then none of this would have happened. Bucky had done a lot of horrible things, but the bruising on your neck wasn’t his fault. You had woken up a PTSD ridden soldier from a nightmare, and the chain of events it had set in motion had gotten him shot.

 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he leaned to the side and wiped a tear from your cheek, despite the hiss of pain when he moved his shoulder. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t. You kept your eyes ahead and nearly sobbed in relief when you saw the road through the trees. You managed to get him there, to the passenger side of the black SUV he’d left parked in the middle of the road. You helped him into the car but when you tried to move away and close the door he pulled you back with a surprising amount of strength.

 

“Don’t leave me.” He begged.

 

“I’m not, I’m going to the other side of the car.”

 

He shook his head and pulled you closer, nearly pulling you onto his lap as he rested his head on your shoulder.

 

“Don’t _leave_ me.” He asked again softly.

 

You felt something wet trickle onto your skin and knew he was crying.

 

He had nearly died for you, had unflinchingly placed himself between you and the danger, even though it was your fault the two of you were in that position. However harsh he could be with his words sometimes, however cruel, there was a good man underneath it all.

 

“I’ll stay.” You promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky: *Choking Belle*  
> Belle: *Gasping* Harder... Daddy...  
> Bucky: What?   
> Belle: What?   
> Steve: *Kicking down the door* WHAT?!?!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I need to make it clear, I am NOT romantasizing mental health issues. Suspend reality and accept that 90% of what goes on in this fic is NOT OK IN REAL LIFE! (Except shooting nazi's, that's totes ok.)


	11. Chapter 11

“What are you three doing?” Steve demanded.

 

Tony, Peter and Sam were huddled in front of Bucky’s door and they all simultaneously turned around and shushed him before they pressed their ears to the door again.

 

“Will you just sit still!” You pleaded loudly.

 

“It stings!” Bucky hissed.

 

“It wouldn’t sting as much if you would just sit still!” You told him exasperatedly.

 

“It wouldn’t sting at all if you hadn’t ran away.” He snapped.

 

“I wouldn’t have ran away if you didn’t tell me to get out.” You threw back.

 

“I wouldn’t have told you to if you had just done if you were told.” He said petulantly.

 

“I would have done as I was told if I knew why I was told it.” You argued with forced calmness.

 

“They’ve been like this for the last ten minutes. We have a bet on how long it will take her to stab him.” Sam sniggered.

 

Steve gave them a stern disapproving look for all of three seconds before he leaned closer to the door as well.

 

~~~~

 

Bucky turned his head away, refusing to even look at you.

 

“I was trying to protect you!” Bucky shouted.

 

“I’m not psychic, I didn’t know that. I was worried about you because despite every attempt to push me away, I care about you.” You insisted.

 

“Well, I don’t want you to care.” He mumbled childishly.

 

“Tough.”

 

“Why are you so stubborn?”

 

“Pot… Kettle.” You said pointedly.

 

“Brat.” He muttered.

 

“Beast.” You rebutted.

 

He glared at you for a moment before the corners of his lips twitched and he sighed and settled back, letting you resume cleaning the bullet hole.

 

“Thank you… for coming after me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t. You saved me.” You said softly, wiping his shoulder free of blood.

 

His hand pulled yours away from his shoulder making you look at him.  His eyes were heavy with the weight of a thousand conflicting emotions, none of them pleasant. But the longer you sat there, patiently gazing at him, the calmer he seemed to become. When he leaned closer something hit you, something that should have been glaring obvious before now.

 

He had never kissed you.

 

He had had you in the most intimate of ways, your lips had tasted each other but the two of you had never actually kissed. You could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears, echoing like a drumbeat as his gaze flickered to your lips and he moved closer. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin and the world narrowed down to the two of you, leaning towards each other like an invisible force was pushing you together.

 

“Belle..” The name was a whispered plea, filled with a longing so tangible you could feel it in the air.

 

You rested your hand on his chest, his heartbeat pulsing beneath your splayed fingers as you closed the distance between you, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt his shuddering breath across you face and then…

 

* **CRASH** *

 

“Sorry!!!”

 

You turned around to see Tony and Peter stood at the door, torn between shocked and amused and Sam and Steve tangled in a mass of flailing limbs on the floor in front of them.

 

“Graceful.” Tony snorted.

 

“Man, get off me!” Sam yelped, trying to wriggle out from underneath Steve’s body.

 

“I’m trying!” Steve insisted, trying to stand up without crushing Sam anymore than he already had.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky snarled.

 

Everyone went deathly silent for a moment, embarrassment at being caught adding to the palpable tension in the room. Your laughter cut through it all, loud and uncontrollable as you leapt to your feet and hurried over to help Sam up, giggling all the while.

 

“I got your car!” Steve yelled quickly.

 

“Thank you Steve.” You said kindly, brushing lint off of Sam’s shoulder.

 

“You know, you’re entitled to a company car instead of that piece of junk.” Tony offered.

 

“I’m perfectly happy with Phillipe.” You laughed.

 

“Phillipe? You called your car Phillipe?” Peter asked.

 

“Well I could upgrade ‘Phillipe’, add some extra features…” Tony pressed forward.

 

“We can discuss it tomorrow.” You said pointedly while Bucky looked at them like he was trying to set them on fire with the power of his mind.

 

“Well, we were just coming to tell you we found your car. All of us. Because it seemed like a team effort.” Steve said, scratching the back of his neck and studying something very interesting on the ceiling.

 

“Well done team, another successful mission. Avengers disassemble.” Sam snorted.

 

“Belle, get some rest. You’ve had a long day. Take a few days, _no working._ ” Steve instructed, throwing a warning look at Bucky.

 

You expected Bucky to say something snarky but he just looked extremely chastised, suddenly finding his metal hand very interesting as you waved the four men out of the room.

 

“Have you only just noticed that thing?” You joked weakly, taking your seat next to him again.

 

“He was right. You have been through a lot, you should go and rest. You need to… _heal_.” Bucky muttered, shooting furtive glances at your neck.

 

The truth was, you were exhausted. You couldn’t remember ever being so tired in your life before and everything was hurting something awful. But you were relishing in the pain and tiredness because it was taking up so much of your thinking power and the second any of it eased you would be forced to think about the fact you had killed someone. You didn’t want to think about that, you weren’t ready for that.

 

“I’m ok Bucky.” You said gently, picking up a piece of gauze and some medical tape to cover his already healing wound.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, almost inaudibly.

 

“I know.” You whispered back.

 

As soon as you patted the tape down to make sure it was sticking, he was standing up.

 

“I’m going to go after Steve, see how and why Hydra were so close to the compound. It’s not good, I need to speak to him. Go to bed.” He instructed.

 

“I will, I just need to clear up.”

 

“No. I’ll do it.” He said and you looked up at him in surprise.

 

“You will? You mean you know _how_?” You asked.

 

“Be quiet.” He growled, rolling his eyes at you.

 

“Do you want me to at least show you how to use the pedal that opens the bin?” You offered.

 

“Stop.”

 

“Oh god, do you even know _where_ the bin is?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek to temper the laughter threatening to bubble out of you.

 

“I’m leaving now.” He warned.

 

“Wait!” You yelped, standing up and grabbing his hand.

 

He turned back to you with an expectant look and you faltered. He seemed to realise that you were struggling and pulled his hand out of yours to cradle the back of your head.

 

“I won’t be far, Friday will be here if you need me.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

 

Warmth bloomed through your chest at the affectionate gesture and you nodded to show you understood and were ok. As soon as the door closed and you were alone you sunk back down onto the sofa, tears stinging at your eyes.

 

A few months ago you had been in university, studying hard and looking forwards to the future. Now, you were bruised, covered in blood that wasn’t your own and you were a killer. A whore and a murderer.

 

You had fallen so far and so fast and you were still falling. You were hurtling towards the ground with nothing to hold onto, except Bucky.

 

If you fell, would Bucky Barnes catch you?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

You dreamt of ice and snow and pale moonlight on a lake of blood. You were running through the snow, away from something or towards it, you didn’t know. With every step you sunk further down into the bone numbing cold white snow, until you couldn’t run anymore. All you could do was freeze.

 

It was a gunshot that woke you.

 

The bang still echoing in your eardrums you fought desperately with the blankets, trying to free yourself. If a gun had been fired that meant there was danger, it meant Bucky was in danger. You had to get to him.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Someone instructed, grabbing a hold of you.

 

You screamed and pushed at them, throwing yourself back, away from them. It was when the heel of your hand smacked against their shoulder and you heard a grunt of pain that you realised who it was.

 

“Bucky? Oh god, Bucky are you ok?” You demanded, grabbing a hold of his arm.

 

“I’m fine, you barely hit me.” He assured.

 

“The gunshot, who was it? What happened?”

 

“What gunshot? I heard…” You gasped, looking at your hands.

 

The strangest feeling was tingling in your palms, like you’d just been holding something cold and heavy. You could still feel it. Bucky covered your hands with his own, squeezing them.

 

“It was a dream, Belle. Just a dream.” He promised.

 

“A dream?”

 

“There was no gunshot, I swear.”

 

You looked into his worried eyes, your mind calming as you came out of the nightmare fuelled terror. You looked around the room, noticing the chair that had been pulled up next to your bed.

 

“Were you watching me sleep?” You asked him.

 

“Yes.” He said unashamedly, unapologetically.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I didn’t want you to wake up alone from a nightmare.” He explained.

 

“Oh. Well, good thinking I guess. Did I hurt you?” You asked, smoothing your hand over his injured shoulder.

 

“No.”

 

“Liar.” You huffed.

 

“It’s nothing compared to how much I hurt you when you woke me from a nightmare.” He said regretfully, gently caressing your throat with his flesh hand.

 

“Give me a bionic arm and super strength, see what happens.” You scoffed.

 

“I’d rather not.” He chuckled.

 

“What time is it?” You asked, noticing it was till dark outside.

 

“it’s early, you should go back to bed.” He tried to encourage.

 

“So should you, you could join me.” You said, biting your lip nervously.

 

“I’m not tired.”

 

“That wasn’t what I was suggesting.” You said, a slight blush burning across your cheeks.

 

Bucky couldn’t have looked more taken aback if he’d tried and when what you were suggesting fully sunk in, he swallowed thickly.

 

“You’re hurt, you’re emotionally and physically exhausted. You need to rest.” He protested.

 

“You’re right.” You agreed, your actions saying something else entirely.

 

You slid the rest of the covers off of yourself and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He inhaled sharply when your thighs settled on either side of his and your hands slid across his chest. He looked pained as he closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at you.

 

“I can’t.” He choked out.

 

“But… Isn’t this why I’m here?” You asked him, confused and hurt.

 

His eyes snapped open, anger clouding his features.

 

“It’s not the only reason. If I just wanted an easy fuck, I could have chosen anyone. I wanted you, I needed you. I still need you but I can’t touch you, not when my handprint is bruised into your fucking throat.” He growled, gently dumping you back on the bed.

 

“That wasn’t your fault Bucky, you didn’t mean to do it.”

 

“Story of my life. Didn’t mean to do it, did it anyway.” He said bitterly.

 

“Bucky, I…”

 

“Don’t!” He interrupted, shaking his head.

 

“I know you forgive me, because that’s just who you are. But I still did it, even if I didn’t mean to do it. How the hell can I take any kind of pleasure from you with _that_ staring back at me? I just.. I need time. I need to let you heal, from all of it. I need to figure it out, how we move forward. Steve said that this can’t happen again and he’s right. I’m dangerous, even when I don’t mean to be. That’s ok, that’s just who I am but I won’t be a danger to you Belle, not ever again. I won’t ever hurt you again. In any way.” He vowed.  

 

“Ok.” You agreed, crawling back across the bed to kneel on the edge.

 

He looked at you suspiciously as you leaned up and  pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. You were leaning on his chest for balance and felt his heart flutter when your lips touched his skin. All the tension in his body melted away and as you pulled back, he instinctively leaned forward, following you. You laughed under your breath and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him on the other cheek as well. When you pulled away to look at him, his eyes were alight with wonderment.

 

“Goodnight Bucky.” You whispered.

 

You released him and lay down, putting a monumental effort into not laughing at him when he nearly fell on the bed.

 

“N’night.” He stuttered, and it was dark so you might have been wrong but you thought you saw traces of a blush on his skin.

 

He at back down on his chair, prepared to keep his vigilant watch and ward off any more nightmares. It made you feel calmer, and infinitely safer as you drifted back to sleep.

 

Maybe Bucky Barnes _would_ be there to catch you after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle: *Kisses Bucky on the cheek*  
> Bucky: What was that?   
> Belle: Affection...  
> Bucky: Disgusting. Do it again.   
> Tony, Peter, Steve and Sam: But do it louder so we can hear it through the wall!


	12. Chapter 12

Your fingers tentatively probed at your throat, marvelling at the accelerated healing. Tony had injected something into the skin that had made the bruising fade in a matter of hours. When you woke up you looked like a horror show and now, only a few hours later you were good as new. You could still feel a slight ache, but it was manageable.

 

Physical trauma had been dealt with and now you were taking on the phycological side of things. The snow had continued to fall and the grounds of the compound were a pristine white. Not a drop of red in sight. You wrapped your scarf around your neck tightly and tugged your gloves on before slipping out of the door, hesitantly making your way through the snow.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

You yelped and spun around, nearly slipping on the icy ground in surprise. Bucky moved quickly, his arms grabbing your hips and keeping you upright while he looked almost apologetic about scaring you.

 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, letting go of you.

 

“It’s alright, you just surprised me.” You said, grinning at your own clumsiness.

 

“My question still stands, what are you doing?” He asked, frowning at the bag in your hands.

 

“It’s birdseed!” You exclaimed, holding up the bag for him to study.

 

“Why?” He asked, utterly perplexed.

 

“Well with all the snow and the ground being frozen solid, the birdies can’t find food very easily so I wanted to help them out.” You explained.

 

“Is there anyone you’re not kind to?” He asked in awe.

 

“Hydra agents.” You said with a grimace.

 

Your quick answer drew a surprised huff of laughter from him before he looked sheepish for laughing at the obviously painful memory.

 

“Sorry.” He said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

 

“It’s not your fault.” You assured him, linking your arm through his to his astonishment.

 

“What are you doing?” He demanded.

 

“Trying to stay upright.” You said innocently.

 

“Oh.” He said, with a hint of disappointment.

 

You untied the bag of birdseed and carefully sprinkled some on top of the snow before pulling Bucky back a few feet to wait. It was only a few moments before one or two birds came to investigate, chirping happily as the pecked at your offering. You watched them happily, glancing at Bucky from time to time. He seemed strangely fascinated by the birds, watching them carefully.

 

“Can.. I mean, could…” He stammered, looking at the bag of seed you were holding.

 

You smiled and pulled his metal hand towards you, palm facing up and tipped a small pile of seed onto his hand. He closed his fist around it and looked at the birds, deciding against throwing it and scaring them. He silently crept closer and knelt down, slowly extending his hand to drop the seed on the ground when one very brave and curious birds chirped loudly and hopped across the snow to perch on his hand, eating the seed directly from Bucky’s metal appendage. Bucky made a huffing sound of surprise and looked at you helplessly.

 

You had to cover your mouth to stifle the laughter at the sight of the big bad Winter Soldier knelt in the snow, too afraid to move lest he scare the robin perched on his metal hand. More and more birds fluttered over, seemingly unbothered by Bucky’s presence and gratefully pecking away at the seed he was holding for them. Slowly, the tension and surprise faded and he actually smiled softly at the strange turn of events.

 

Your laughter dissipated into awe and admiration at the sight before you and you felt something like butterflies in your stomach. This was the Bucky who had been hidden beneath the mean and coarse, unrefined man you’d first met. The tender way he held himself was so sweet and kind, you honestly wondered how you had never seen it there before.

 

Bucky glanced over at you to see if you were laughing at him and his heart faltered at the way you were gazing at him. Like he was something worth gazing at and not something to recoil from. Even when you’d poured the seed into his metal hand, you hadn’t so much as shuddered at the cool metal despite it having been wrapped around your throat the day prior. You had always been so patient with him, so kind but this was different, It was almost like lo… no, he was imagining things. He turned away, determined to ignore you. Still, you’d never looked at him this way before.

 

“Are you seeing this?” Sam asked, peering out of the window.

 

“What?” Peter asked, running over, trying to push between Steve and Sam to see what they were looking at.

 

“Well who’d have thought?” Steve said, grinning at the sickeningly sweet sight.

 

“You did, you can gloat.” Sam sighed.

 

“What are you looking at?” Peter asked again.

 

“Yes, but I didn’t think they’d come together on their own. I thought they would have needed more of a push.” Steve admitted.

 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, wandering over to see what the fuss was about.

 

Steve moved over so Tony could see.

 

“Aww, come on!” Peter protested.

 

“Well, this is new.” Tony remarked with clear amusement.

 

“WHAT’S NEW?” Peter demanded.

 

“Nothing your young, innocent eyes needs to see.” Tony joked.

 

“But..”

 

“They’re gone now.” Steve said apologetically.

 

“Who’s gone?” Peter asked.

 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Tony said, ruffling Peter’s hair obnoxiously.

 

When Bucky finally tore himself away from his new friends he came over and straight away offered you his arm again.

 

“Did you want to go inside or, maybe walk a bit?” He asked.

 

“We can walk.” You said, trying to hide a shiver.

 

“You’re cold.” He of course noticed.

 

“I’m ok, I have a coat on.”

 

“Have mine.” He insisted, shrugging it off and draping across your shoulders before you could protest.

 

“I don’t need it, really… what’s that?” You asked, noticing the heavy weight in the inside pocket.

 

“Oh, that’s your book.” He said, blushing slightly.

 

“You’re reading it?” You asked delightedly, pulling it out.

 

“Yeah. I actually liked it.” He admitted.

 

“Liked, you finished it?” You asked, flipping through it.

 

“I’m re-reading it, now I know how it ends I wanted to go back and pick up on all the bits I might have missed the first time.” He explained.

 

You looked up at him in surprise.

 

“You really did like it.” You said softly, not trying to mask the happiness in your voice.

 

“I did. The main character was interesting, he started out kind of unlikable. He was naive and foolhardy but I liked how he grew and changed the more he saw of the world and his friendship with the slave grew.” Bucky said eagerly.

 

“Yeah, he was a bit stupid at first. So consumed with how everyone else saw him and selfish really but he changed so much as it went on. I really liked how his entire perspective changed as it went on.” You agreed.

 

“Why did you lend me that one? How did you know I would like it?” Bucky asked.

 

“It’s actually one of my favourites. The author writes a lot of kind or creepy teen fiction stories I grew up with but this was the first thing of his I read that was more grown up. It still has that almost childlike wonder feel to it though.” You gushed.

 

“You grew up reading creepy teen fiction stories?” He laughed.

 

“I grew up reading just about anything and everything I could get my hands on. When I was about six I was upset because I didn’t have many friends. My grandmother gave me boxes of books she spent weeks collecting from charity shops and second hand stores and told me that ‘as long as I could read, I would always have a friend’.” You admitted.

 

“She sounds like an incredibly wise woman.” Bucky noted.

 

“She was. She really was.” You sighed wistfully, smiling at the memory of her.

 

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be your friend.” He told you honestly.

 

“You didn’t want to be my friend.” You pointed out.

 

“I did. I do.” He whispered.

 

“You say that like you had a chance of refusing.” You smirked.

 

“How foolish of me.” He snorted.

 

You smiled up at him until you remembered what you’d spent the morning doing and dug through your pockets.

 

“Here.” You told Bucky, smiling sweetly and holding out a slip of paper.

 

“What’s this?” He frowned, looking over the list of numbers.

 

“Phone numbers for physiatrist’s who specialize in working with veterans and people with PTSD. All of them were checked over and recommended by Sam and then thoroughly checked out by Tony and Friday before Steve and I called them all personally and removed any we didn’t think you’d like. If you crumple that piece of paper up, you and I are going to have a problem.” You told him sternly.

 

His mature response was to snarl at you.

 

“I know you’re from the 40’s where people didn’t talk about the mess inside their minds but if you can bring yourself to accept colour television then you can try therapy. All you have to do is meet them, you don’t even have to talk at all until you want to, even then you can say as much or as little as you like. If they give you advice, it’s your choice as to whether or not you take it. Just pick a name, call them and go sit in an office for an hour a week. Or we can bring them here.” You pleaded.

 

“No.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this very well. You’re doing it. Once you meet with them it becomes your choice but you _are_ meeting somebody.” You ordered.

 

“No, I’m not.” He growled.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes so help me god I will drag your snarling ass there myself if I have to.” You huffed.

 

Bucky looked confused by your attitude, like a puppy who had just been scolded for the first time. It almost broke your resolve, it was that adorable.

 

“No.”

 

Adorable or not, bionic arm or not, you were going to start throwing things at him.

 

“Look Bucky, you can agree to it or….” You trailed off.

 

“Or what?”

 

“Steve and Tony want me to move out of your suite, I argued them down on the agreement I would get you to see a professional.” You admitted.

 

“NO! They can’t take you away from me.” He said possessively.

 

“Then go sit on a couch and glare at a stranger for an hour. Please?” You begged.

 

Ideally, therapy would be something that someone would do willingly. Blackmailing him into going was a very last resort though and you weren’t lying when you’d said Steve and Tony had tried to move you into a different room. They were at the end of their ropes with him, the bruising on your throat being the final straw. If this was the only way to get him to speak to someone then so be it.

 

“Fine.” He huffed.

 

“Really? You’ll do it?” You asked hopefully.

 

“For you, I’ll do it for you.” He promised, slipping the paper into his pocket.

 

You felt bad that you’d spoiled the good mood but you’d done it with the best of intentions. You knew he needed help, he needed to be able to learn to live with the pain instead of letting it consuming him. But maybe there was a way to get him to smile again… or get yourself in trouble. Either way it was a distraction.

 

“What’s that?” You said, frowning at something on the ground.

 

“What?” He asked as you pulled your hand from his and ran over to check, bending down for a closer look.

 

“Belle what is it?” He demanded, following you.

 

Just as he approached his question was answered in the form of a face full of snow and your laughter ringing loudly in his ears. He brushed the powdery white flakes from his face in disbelief and watched with narrowed eyes as you scarpered away, running for cover. You ducked behind a tree and bit down on your lip to stifle a laugh. You nervously peeked our from behind the trunk but he was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Looking for me doll?” He whispered in your ear, arms ensconcing your waist to stop you escaping.

 

“If I beg for mercy, what are my chances?” You asked timidly.

 

“Slim.” He admitted, picking you and carrying you over to a large pile of snow.

 

“Bucky no! Please! MERCY! UNCLE! I SURRENDER!” You shrieked to no avail.

 

He unceremoniously dumped you into the ice cold pile of snow and chuckled at your shocked spluttering.

 

“Cold!” You yelped.

 

“It is frozen water.” He shrugged.

 

“I hate you.” You huffed, struggling to get up.

 

He laughed freely at your pathetic attempts before he finally took pity on you and helped you up. During your struggles, his coat had slipped from your shoulders and your scarf had loosened and you saw his eyes snap to your throat. His hand gently brushed your hair away from your neck and he frowned at the remarkably clear skin.

 

“You’re healed.” He said in wonder.

 

“Tony. Well, the famous Doctor Banner actually. He gave Tony something to speed up the process and honestly, it was only light bruising anyway.” You explained.

 

“Tony did this for you?”

 

“Well, I asked if there was anything he could do to speed it up.” You admitted.

 

The unspoken confession, that you wanted it gone so he would touch you again, was heard even though you didn’t say it out loud. He leaned in, his lips brushing over the skin in the hollow of your throat and it wasn’t the freezing cold surrounding you that had you shivering. He tenderly kissed every single centimetre of your neck, an apology in every light press of his lips and you basked in the affection. When his mouth traced your jawline you sighed dreamily, cold forgotten.

 

He moved up, his lips dangerously close to yours and you sighed softly. That was when your body decided to remind you of how cold you were and a painfully violent shiver rippled through you.

 

“You’re frozen!” He exclaimed, fixing his coat around you securely again and pulling you towards the building.

 

You didn’t say anything, still affected by what had just transpired. Or almost transpired. There was no denying that something had shifted in the dynamic between the two of you and where there had once been anger and attitude, there was now tenderness and… maybe joy? Whatever it was, it was new and a bit alarming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing Belle's grandmother said to her was actually something my wonderful granny said to me when I was a little girl and she was right. 
> 
> Sam: I don't like him.  
> Belle: That's a shame because your family loves him.  
> Sam: What?  
> Belle: *Points at Bucky sat on the ground, covered in birds*

**Author's Note:**

> ALWAYS use protection and respect your partners decisions during sex folks. Fanfics are not a representation of real life and shouldn't be treated as such.  
> The kind of behaviours exhibited in this fic are only really ok in fiction because this is a safe space.


End file.
